


Will Graham tries to get laid

by CannibalsSong (untamedsymphony), TheFilthWithin (Flatfootmonster)



Series: CannibalsSong and Flatfootmonsters world of Hannigram (a love story... mostly crack with substantial amounts of Spacedogs) [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Accidental exhabitionism, Anal Fingering, And Will's balls are really blue now, Bev is the best, Blue Balls, Clumsy Will, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dickstracted, Dirty Talk, Distractions happen, Fluff and Crack, God Damn Graham always poking your nose in..., Hanni was in the mood, Hannibal does, Hannibal does anyway, Hannibal in jeans, Hannibal is a Tease, Hannibal is still a tease, Hannibal rocks a pair of waders, Hannibal wants a sneaky snack, Hannibal wants to spank Will, I mean the worst, Jack Crawford is a bully, Jack doesn't care, Kleenex for the Win, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Non-con Cannibalism, Or ahould I say Nom-con cannibalism MWAHAHA, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Romantic Will, Sort of? - Freeform, Subtle Edging, That changed, Trying to get laid Will, Will doesn't seem to mind, Will is supposed to have two weeks off damn it!, Will makes a mess, Will needs to go home!, Will tries to cook, Will tries to lure, as well as any of Will's plans work, but he has a plan, maybe it will work this time, romantic walks, things go sideways from there, well..., will is frustrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untamedsymphony/pseuds/CannibalsSong, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flatfootmonster/pseuds/TheFilthWithin
Summary: "Well…. Fuck it.” No amount of seasoning was going to save this for the likes of Hannibal's sensitive palate. Likewise, nothing was going to recover Will's odds of getting laid tonight. It had been weeks of courting, dates and fumbles that didn't progress past fully clothed gropes. Hannibal was doing It on purpose, winding him up, probably still punishing him for that ill fated, or not so ill in hindsight, game of hide and seek in Hannibal's office.





	1. Strike 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CannibalsSong (untamedsymphony)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/untamedsymphony/gifts).



> So in our little Hannigramverse, myself and CannibalsSong decides to work on some short stories preluding Hannibal and Will's wedding in our Hannigram/Spacedogs fic.
> 
> So this mini series will surround Will's failing attempts to bed Hannibal, CS started off by giving me to prompt of Will cooking and ultimately fucking everything up. And so here it is... CS already has her prompt for the next chapter so it's in its way! 
> 
> Enjoy... Love Becs

“Fuuucck!”

 

The curse sounded odd in the large quiet and open space of Hannibal's Kitchen. Will stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked it; the burn was going to blister he knew and he wondered with a frown if Hannibal cussed at all. He shook his head at his own idiot self, because like things didn't usually come out of the oven  _ hot _ . This was the worst, his timings were off and things were progressively cluster fucking together.

 

Grabbing a tea towel, he ran some water over it and wrapped it around his thumb. The gentle sound of boiling alerted his attention. The milk that was supposed to simmer, not in fact boil, was doing just that. Without thinking, Will reached across the stove to turn the milk down, dragging the end of the tea towel over the lit hob, empty and awaiting the pan that was supposed to be there. The pan was not there. Flames licked up the cloth and he shook it free of his hand, letting it fall into the sink and running water over the ruined thing. Which probably cost more than his entire wardrobe.

 

“Fuck.” He repeated. Smoke bellowed up, Will watched the wispy fingers climb to the ceiling, snaking across it and, of course, setting off the fire alarm just as the oven timer went off. Looking between the two bleating things, he grabbed the oven door to open it, letting the heat out and more smoke,  _ that was not good _ , before turning to flail the half burnt tea towel at the sensor to turn the alarm off. 

 

Alarm sorted, Will smoothed his hands down his stomach as he turned to the oven with dread at what lay within. Donning some fancy oven gloves, he pulled the door down fully to reveal the meat he had been cooking. Carefully he pulled the tray out, setting if on the counter and examined the overcooked remains of a ridiculously priced leg of lamb. 

 

“Well…. Fuck it.” No amount of seasoning was going to save this for the likes of Hannibal's sensitive palate. Likewise, nothing was going to recover Will's odds of getting laid tonight. It had been  _ weeks  _ of courting, dates and fumbles that didn't progress past fully clothed gropes. Hannibal was doing It on purpose, winding him up, probably still punishing him for that ill fated, or not so ill in hindsight, game of hide and seek in Hannibal's office. Will hadn't seen the man's cock since, and he didn't feel ridiculous in admitting the fact that he actually missed it. He missed looking at Hannibal's cock. It would be so hilariously absurd if it wasn't so achingly, blue ball inducingly true. 

 

Will found himself biting his lip, standing in a smoky kitchen, things bubbling on the stove, staring at blackened meat, charred scrap of cloth in his hand whilst he thought about Hannibal.  Naked. Again. This was all the other man's fault. He was usually clumsy but this was unreasonable. Even for Will Graham. If Hannibal had just fucked him by now he wouldn't even have to be sweating his balls off cooking a ‘Fuck Me Please’ meal. He could be drinking a glass of whiskey, relaxing, content and complacent in the knowledge he was going to get laid.

 

Yet here he stood... Here he stood on a battlefield with no victor. The only clear winner was Kleenex, who had been making a small fortune from him over the past month or so. Never had he been so frustrated in his life.

 

Sighing, he tried to figuratively push Hannibal’s impressive length out of his head. Placing his palms on the worktop he stared at the intended main dish as if it would suddenly give him hints on how to best save itself. The best use he could come up with was cold meat sandwiches. He was sure Hannibal would be  _ thrilled _ … 

 

Will moved to the cupboard. If he could not save the main, he could focus on the dessert. Fingers fumbled through the high shelf, he knew there was gelatine up there. His search fruitless, he stood on tiptoes to continue. Shoving an arm deep into the shelves to forage, he pushed the small containers together and forward, towards the edge. It wasn't until the opened bag of flour started it's descent that Will noticed how much he had rearranged the shelves. He had a brief moment to close his eyes and hold his breath before the whole thing landed on his head, contents spilling down him and onto the floor in a fine layer of the stuff, spreading and settling absolutely fucking everywhere.

 

Will tried to take in a deep breath to settle himself but instead inhaled a lungful of flour, making him cough and splutter, wheezing from his nose and sneezing, all simultaneously. 

 

_ “Fuck it.” _ He declared once he had calmed himself. It was done. He was torn between sitting on the floor and amusing himself by drawing dicks in the white that now covered the dark slate surface, and just taking off, changing his identity and going into hiding. It was mostly the murderous expression he imagined would grace Hannibal’s dignified face on finding his kitchen in such a state coupled with the tenacious attitude Will assumed he would sport whilst hunting him down and slowly flaying him for his culinary sins, that kept him moving. That and Hannibal probably wouldn't appreciate dick pics, even beautifully scribed on his kitchen floor. That and he really did want to get laid this side of the century.

 

It was truly fucked though. The only thing for it was to clean everything away and destroy any evidence that Will had been here for the last 5 hours trying to cook a meal for the other man. Just because he wanted to impress him somehow. Will knew he was lacking in comparison; scruffy where Hannibal was immaculate, abrupt and crass where Hannibal was patient and eloquent, clumsy and haphazard where the other was precise and elegant. He had just wanted to show he could provide, present and nourish, in some fashion, to Hannibal's tastes.

 

Sighing resignedly, Will moved around the kitchen, shutting off the oven, discarding the spoiled ingredients, save the meat. That he could at least take to the dogs, he could make them happy at least. As the light faded outside, Will ran a cloth over the last surface, now a clean and perfect kitchen with no evidence whatsoever that intentions had been alive to present a three course meal with all the trimmings by candlelight. The only thing that could be salvaged was a bottle of red that Will had noted was a favourite of Hannibal's. 

 

Grabbing two glasses, he sat at the kitchen island and filled the vessels halfway and waited. He didn't need to sit alone long, not two minutes into Will's fretting over whether Hannibal ate takeout or not, car lights shone through the window, footsteps neared the entrance and the door opened. There was a pause before anything else happened. 

 

As soon as Hannibal entered his home, he detected the faint smell of scorched cotton and overcooked lamb along with an opened bottle of red, and a myriad of other things. So Will had spent the afternoon cooking, and badly by the smell of it. Hannibal stifled a laugh that tried to bubble up as he imagined the younger man flustered and flapping, focussed on a million tasks spiralling out of control. Not due to lack of skill but a lack of practise. He imagined Will was taking it incredibly personally and had probably tried to hide his futile but extensive efforts behind an nonchalant facade. It was as though the other man forgot he was dating a psychiatrist. 

 

Entering the kitchen, Hannibal physically bit the inside of his mouth to stop himself from laughing. As he had imagined, the kitchen was spotless, everything in its rightful place, and there in the middle of the room, a half slouched Will sat casually nursing a glass of wine. He could have gone along with the illusion, simply for Will's own sake, had it not been for the fact the man in question, the very one who had unpredictably laid claim to Hannibal’s heart with his remarkable mind and wit, beautiful form and charmingly rough but honest mannerisms, that very same man sat like a freshly presented Victorian sponge cake, a fine layer of flour covering his hair and shoulders, an adorable smudge on the tip of his nose. Yet he sat, as though nothing were amiss with a feigned bored expression on his face, and a hint of sulkiness. 

 

It was no good. Hannibal couldn't hold back the laugh that surged in him, deep down where nothing but Will had touched him in a very long time. The other man looked on bemused as he continued to laugh, striding towards the bench to steady himself as he reeled with mirth. 

 

“What?” Will demanded, irritated with the laughter he thought was directed at him. Which was half true but not in the way he assumed. The slight pout that appeared on the younger man's face didn't help matters. 

 

“Will,” Hannibal purred moving closer to the younger man, “I hadn't imagined you would present yourself like the most tempting dessert that I have ever laid my eyes on before.” 

 

Will’s irritation was replaced by confusion, before the older man moved into him, taking his mouth in a kiss. This kiss was no different from any of the others they had shared, seeming to push all emotion and thought from his mind. Making him malleable and soft at a touch from those hands that were currently holding his face tenderly, then fingers pushed through his curls as the other's tongue breached his mouth, slowly and thoroughly kissing the sense from the seated man. 

 

Eventually, lips parted as Hannibal stood back slightly, enjoying the flush that was now in Will's cheeks, his lip trembling and eager for more, eyes slowly opening. Taking a thumb, he wiped away the smudge on the end of the other's nose. Blue eyes looked at him questioningly, Hannibal still grinning down on him.

 

“What is so damn funny, Hannibal?” Will managed, not as much irritation in his voice as he wished but the kiss had completely eased his emotions, grounded him. Perhaps hope wasn't lost after all. 

 

“You appear to have lost a fight with a bag of flour.” The look in Hannibal’s eyes was soft and fond, matching the low tone in his voice. He watched Will's mouth open slightly, embarrassment growing within the younger man as he struggled with the need to defend himself. He lost that fight too.

 

Pushing himself up off the stool, he moved back from Hannibal, fingers raked through his hair, and he looked at his now floured hand, as a small white puff expelled from where his hands had disrupted the stuff. 

 

“I… I was just trying to cook dinner. But it went wrong. It's no big deal. I … er… stop looking at me like that!” Will spluttered.

 

Frustration was quickly mounting in the younger man, but it was so utterly endearing to Hannibal. Still, he wanted to soothe those insecurities in Will. The thought and this scene was probably equally, if not more so, delightful to Hannibal than any extravagant meal. Still, he would have to take Will in hand and smooth this out. Before he could open his mouth to retort Will turned as though to leave.

 

“I'll just go and leave you to your evening. This was a mistake.” Will grumbled, dropping his chin to avoid the eyes that looked at him in a way he couldn't quite decipher, but all he could detect was that the other man was laughing at him. He didn't get far, as he took a step away, Hannibal's hand grabbed his, spinning Will around and drawing him back to his own body. Arms wound around him tightly holding him firmly in place.

 

“You will do nothing of the sort.” Hannibal murmured, pressing a kiss on to Will's pulse point in his neck. “Besides, how could I enjoy my evening if you were not present?” His mouth moved up the other man's neck, enjoying the sound of him swallowing and the small grunt of pleasure, the body in his arms slowly melting against him. 

 

Will's hands held Hannibal just as firmly now. It was so hard to keep his well practised grumpy facade up when Hannibal’s words and mouth worked on him. He could never quite shake the notion that this was all a wind up and as Will's feelings deepend for the man holding him, that fear grew sharper.

 

“I just wanted to make something you'd enjoy,” Will began, the lips had reached his earlobe and it was getting increasingly difficult for him to think straight. “Give you something more to your tastes.” 

 

Hannibal stopped in his tracks, understanding the undercurrents to the words. Will felt as though he was out of place in Hannibal's world, that he was not what Hannibal desired, as mismatched as Will presumed them to be. A lick of possessiveness flared in him. Grabbing Will's waist, he moved him backwards roughly until the younger man's back hit the kitchen wall with enough force to push a grunt from him. Pinning him there, he stared into wide blue eyes, the dark pool that centred them widening. 

 

“You, Will Graham, are  _ exactly _ my taste.” Hannibal spoke sternly before lowering his mouth to take another deep and needy kiss from Will. He pulled back, enjoying the way he left the other breathless just a little too much. “I would not change one fibre of your being. Even the way you curse when you think I cannot hear.” Hannibal softened himself as Will's hands grabbed on to him, pulling him harder onto his own body. The small moan that Will elicited from the words, Hannibal caught with his mouth, wanting to batter down the younger man's defences, leaving him in no doubt how painfully Hannibal desired him. He left the lips red and swollen when he broke from Will this time. “I will never tire from showing you exactly who you belong to.” It was a definite whimper that came from the younger man now, eyes flashed up to him with a pleading look that was irresistible. “Who do you belong to, Will?” Hannibal asked, voice heavy, aroused himself simply by the way Will responded so perfectly to him.

 

Will let out a shuddered breath, hands worked up Hannibal's body, finally running through his hair to bring his face closer to his own.

 

“You.” He whispered, lips brushing against the other's, before tipping his chin up and taking his own kiss. He took the tongue that delved into his mouth, exploring him with a passion that pushed Will easily to submitting.

“Perfect.” Hannibal managed once their lips had parted, breathing deeply from the exertion. It would be as hard to discipline himself as it was going to be to divert Will. Hannibal was a man of values, albeit uniquely to himself, and he had specific plans for when he claimed Will. It was not here and now. “Now, I'm sure you  haven't eaten all day. If you would be so kind as to freshen yourself up, I would be honoured to take you out for dinner.” The younger man let out a groan, head dropping back against the wall in frustration. Before any doubt set in, he lowered his mouth to Will's ear. “Will, when it is time for me to claim you entirely, you will need to be nourished, well rested and have at least a week's holiday in which for me to be completely satisfied that I have proven to you all the ways in which I hunger for you. Perhaps another week for you to recover.” He smiled at the shudder that shook the other body. 

 

An almost petulant sigh left Will's mouth.

 

“OK, Hannibal.” He replied, resigned to his hand yet again tonight. He may in fact need to relieve himself as he freshened  up by this point. It would not have been the first time he had done that here. “We could always order in?” Will asked tentatively. “Pizza, or-” 

 

“We will dine on a banquet of human flesh before we ever order take out.” Hannibal cut him off, with a half smile. Somehow Will didn't think there was much jest to the words  

 

“Well. As delightful as that sounds, I think I will take the offer of dinner out. Nobody dines on human flesh on a Tuesday.” Will muttered with a huffed laugh. Hannibal grinned at him. 

 

“Then out we shall go.” With one last chaste kiss, Hannibal released him from his hold, the younger man staggered towards the bathroom, discreetly adjusting himself. “We should leave soon, to make sure we get a table. Please be quick, Will.” Glancing over his shoulder, Will took in the innocent expression on the other man's face. Too innocent. He sighed again. What was another evening of trying to hide his hard on from the general public anyway? 


	2. Cold Meats and Mires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Grahams second attempt at getting laid... they have had a wonderful date with one small hiccup resulting in a missed restaurant booking and an unscheduled shower. 
> 
> With Hannibal hungry and Will all gloriously wet, What could go wrong? 
> 
> All the things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I have been slack. But it's a new year and god damn it I'm gonna clean up my act!
> 
> Enjoy this chapter... it's been going around in my brain for months now. I wrote it in three hours and I haven't properly edited. But enjoy nonetheless! It's just a bit of crack! 
> 
> Becs

Doctor Lecter moved through his natural habitat like a tiger prowling his territory; graceful and deathly efficient with every extension or rotation of a limb. He didn't have much time to play with. 

Selecting the serrated knife from his block, he quickly checked the edge. It was exceptionally keen. With a smile he moved to the stainless steel container, sliding open the shutter he removed the produce. It was wrapped in thin, clear plastic and felt perfectly soft in his hand. It had only come out of the oven that morning, before Will had arrived and they had left for their walk. 

It had been a perfectly pleasant day. The long walk through the countryside that surrounded Will's land spanned over many different terrains. Hannibal had the opportunity to scope out different morsels that could be harvested for his own pantry.  When he had the right equipment and attire that was. Everything had been wonderful, from the stolen kisses amongst the woods, to the delightfully clumsy way Will had fallen into a mire, trying to help Hannibal around it. Will had been far from pleased and considerably filthy, it was why he was currently upstairs showering. Hannibal could hear the water running and, if his calculations were correct, he had about fifteen minutes before Will would reemerge. That was how long the man usually took to wash and dress. And it was why the Doctor had to rush to accomplish his secretive task. Will could never know.

As he moved to the fridge, Hannibal considered the impulse that he now knew he wanted to act on. He had made Will wait a considerably long time, they had been dating for months now with nothing more than kisses and caresses. Hannibal was a passionate man, but he needed to know he was investing his desires in the right individual. They would eventually come to know everything about him. Excepting  _ this.  _ He'd never hear the end of it.

Pursing his lips, he scanned the fridge seeking out the correct ingredients. Taking a single jar in one hand, he closed the fridge, enjoying the cool of the glass against his palm. He had made the contents himself, of course. His hands had been stained red for a day afterwards  _ but _ he enjoyed his own concoctions. The recipes had unconventional twists that he doubted could be found anywhere but his own kitchen. The fridge door shut with a clink and he turned to a cupboard, swiftly grabbing a second jar. This particular ingredient added texture more than anything, as well as a seasoning that balanced out the overall taste. Hannibal’s mouth watered in anticipation. 

The man hummed a pleasant tune to himself as he unwrapped the plastic from the item that would be the main component in his dish. The knife passed easily through it, two slices flopped onto the chopping board. Rewrapping the remaining chunk, he returned it to its rightful place. Then with a elegant flick of his wrist, he tossed the slices onto the pan, already heated over the stove. They would only need a few minutes either side. 

* * *

Will hurried through his shower as quickly as he could without cutting corners. They were supposed to stop by a restaurant on the drive back, Hannibal had made reservations the week before, but with Will literally smelling like a mire they had decided to come straight home. If he hurried, perhaps they could still get a table. It was a very exclusive restaurant and Hannibal had insisted that it was fine, but Will knew the man had been excited about it. And if they couldn't get in there, they would surely find somewhere the Doctor was happy to dine at. Surely…

The other factor that quickened his actions was the way Hannibal had looked at him, touched him,  _ kissed  _ him. Almost unsaid promises lingered between them since Hannibal answered the door and Will's body was eager to respond to them. One of the reasons he'd fallen over was due to the man's hand pressing low on his waist. A finger had slipped into the waistband of his slacks and Will's mind had blanked, his cock had throbbed instantly at the almost innocent gesture. Then a root had snagged his foot and he had plummeted headfirst into the sod. The only upside was he did not drag Hannibal with him. He would have never forgiven himself. Most of the man's suits cost more than Will's salary. Passed the monetary perspective, having the dignified Doctor covered in mud and it be his fault… well that was unconscionable. Especially when he was trying to get laid. Which reminded him, he needed to hurry. 

Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel and began pat his skin dry. Padding into the guest suite, Will grinned as he saw a change of clothes already laid out for him. Frowning, he moved closer to the items. They looked tailored and… his initials were sewn into the collar. He blinked. That was a sure sign that this _was_ in fact serious, it couldn't have been clearer if it had been spelled out on the fridge with big, bright magnetic letter. Except Hannibal Lecter would never own any big, bright fridge magnets. Maybe he should buy some and leave filthy messages for the Doctor. He shook his head. No, the point was Will _couldn't_ miss that sign and he wouldn't let this deed go amiss either.

With a smirk, he wrapped the towel around his waist. Maybe he should make some ham fisted attempts at seduction. He was absolutely terrible at romance but, if Hannibal wanted him (and by this point Will was 90% sure that was the case), walking around wet and half naked wasn't about to damage his chances. He hoped.

Turning to the door, Will made his way to the kitchen where he could hear Hannibal working away.

* * *

The minimal cooking was complete and Hannibal set about composing his dish. It was a science: balancing each flavour against the other and supporting one texture with another. The satisfaction the man felt at harvesting, preparing, cooking and eating his own food was immeasurable. One final diagonal cut and his secret meal was ready.

As he walked his plate to the kitchen island, he let his mind comb through the day in fine detail. Will had been his usual grumpy self once he was covered in half of the forest floor. But Hannibal found it quite intriguing that, since the younger man had agreed to date him, his ire had never once been directed at the Hannibal. More so, Will would become irritated at himself over his own perceived failings. They were anything but failings to Hannibal. They were very profound efforts and he was convinced Will was unaware of the depth of meaning within them. Simply the thought of Will guiding Hannibal around the solid ground earlier made an unfamiliar warmth spread in the man's chest. Yes, he would show Will exactly how much he appreciated his efforts. 

Pouring a glass of wine for himself he took a seat. Closing his eyes, he nosed his glass. Breathing in the delicate tones that would compliment his food, the man smiled. His fingers held a morsel of the delectable bounty he had procured and for a moment he was lost in the reverie of his culinary genius. He had been so lost recalling the day and strategizing the way in which he would pounce on Will, with a small amount of self congratulations, that he hadn't noticed the water being shut off way ahead of the assumed time. Neither had he registered the sound of a door closing down the hall and the soft padding of bare feet had been completely lost on him. 

Hannibal was poised to take his first bite when someone cleared their throat. His eyes snapped open and his jaw dropped at the sight of a half naked and very damp Will, standing awkwardly in the kitchen entrance. 

“I.. erm… I didn't mean to intrude. That all looked very…  _ intimate _ .” Will scoffed. His bright eyes scanned the tabletop trying to figure out exactly what was being consumed.

“Will,” Hannibal struggled to maintain the panic as he tried to hide his plate with his hands. It was no good, the man was approaching and his brows pulled together in focus with every step. 

“What is that?” He asked, mystified by the dish.

“It's just a snack. It's nothing… just something I threw together. You should get dressed, you'll catch a cold.” Hannibal stood protectively over the plate. His hands made shooing gestures in Will's direction but as recognition dawned on the younger man's face, Hannibal knew the game was up. 

A tentative silence descended on the kitchen as blue eyes flickered over the evidence, plain as day, and then back to Hannibal’s stony face. 

“Is that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Doctor Lecter?” The question inflected incredulously as it ended, rising Hannibal's hackles defensively.

“It happens to be a crunchy hazelnut spread with a fig preserve on toasted wholemeal loaf. Freshly baked this morning and all homemade I will have you know.” Hannibal tilted his chin up in a petulant manner that was a rare trait in the Doctor.

Will's face was still for entirely too long before the facade cracked and a snort of laughter ripped from him. Evidently, the younger man was reducing his work to a common sandwich. Just like the time he had proclaimed that the broth Hannibal made when the younger man had been sick was merely chicken soup. The ungrateful little rube. 

“Yes, Will it's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Hannibal snapped his jaw shut to punctuate his finality on the subject. Will's mirth took an infuriating amount of time to abait. 

The younger man leant on the kitchen counter in an blatantly inappropriate manner, given the fact that Hannibal was fuming with him it was completely uncalled for. He was all elbows and biceps with water dripping over his body salaciously. It was altogether outrageous. Oh, he would give Will a very thorough lesson when he was ready. Today, he decided on this very bitter whim, would not be that day.

“So you're telling me I missed out on peanut butter jelly time? Damn it.” The agitation was all a front. Will grinned over at the off balance man who stared right back, deducing which sections he should harvest first from that toned, sleek, sexy…. 

Clearing his throat, Hannibal puffed out his chest, looking anywhere but Will's alluring form. “If you need me, I will be in the dining room. I wish to eat undisturbed if I am actually capable of that feat now.” Picking up his drink and plate, Hannibal turned on his heel and marched from the room.

* * *

Will was sure he was muttering about indignity and common behaviour on his retreat. The younger man chuckled to himself as he settled on a stool. He hasn't meant to upset Hannibal. What did he care if the man wanted to eat hazelnut compote and fig reduction… or whatever it was Hannibal had said he was eating. It looked good regardless. The man  _ was _ prickly. Will smiled to himself fondly. Prickly and rather adorable. 

Sighing heavily, he resigned himself to the fact the mood had been blown completely and he would not get laid today. He flexed his right hand.

“I guess it's just you and me then.” He said to his palm.

“Not on your life, Will.” came Hannibal's bellow from the dining room. 

Will cradled his head in his hands. When had he allowed Hannibal to take control of his pleasure? What crazed idea had dulled his brain? Oh yes… he had thought that might lead to their intimacy developing quicker. Will had quickly discovered that was not the case. 

Sliding from the stool, he grudgingly accepted another day of blue ball syndrome. Well, until Hannibal decided to show him mercy. He wasn't usually cruel. 

Opening the fridge, Will decide to console himself with food. He had been given free range of the kitchen from the first date. A plated selection of cold meats immediately grabbed his attention. 

He carried the platter to the table, unfastening the plastic lid that preserved the food from drying out and losing flavour. “Hannibal, What meat is this? I can't place it.” he called out, placing a slice in his mouth and humming his contentedness at the delicious flavour.

There was a pause. Hannibal was probably swallowing a mouthful of his own food. “Game.” His reply didn't seem particularly sure of itself. Although Hannibal was a meat man, he went through a lot. Maybe he had forgotten. 

Will shrugged. “Huh. It's good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comment, suggestions and criticism welcomed!


	3. Fishing For A Little Bit Of Tail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Will is still suffering from a bad case of blue balls. But this time he has a plan.... If he can't provoke Hannibal into giving him what he wants, maybe he can lure him into it....
> 
> But you know what they say about the best laid plans......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is the first of the two solo contributions I am making to this five chaptered work. I know it is long over due, but... Nope, no excuses. I just been slacken. I hope you enjoy it, late as it is, and if you don't mind, take a minute to let me and my partner Flatfootmonster know what you think of our little series. One more solo chapter by me (phone sex, squee!) and then FF and I will do the final chapter where Will finally gets what he's been after for so long!
> 
> As always, we don't own it, just like taking it out for a test drive now and then....

Will Graham was a man with a plan.  A surefire, sabotage proof plan.  There was no way he could possibly screw up this time.  He would prove to Hannibal that he was not just a series of disasters waiting to happen. And if he managed to  _ finally  _ get laid in the process….Well, as Hannibal would say, all the better.

 

Will had spent the last week contemplating why his previous efforts to break through the good doctor’s self restraint and induce the man to fuck him into oblivion had all failed so spectacularly and he had come to one undeniable conclusion.  He had set himself up for failure.  (Laughing at Hannibal’s fancy-assed PB&J sandwich probably hadn’t helped, but come on, he couldn’t help it!) 

 

He now realized his previous efforts had been far too blunt. Coming at Hannibal head on would never work.  Hannibal was far too manipulative a bastard to be pushed, and so would need careful handling if Will wanted to achieve his goals. While Will could not prove it, and by this time, he no longer wanted to, there was no denying that under Dr. Lecter’s refined mask there lurked a natural born predator.  And predators never reacted the way you wanted them to when you came straight at them.

 

What Will had failed to consider in his eagerness to find himself beneath Hannibal was the man himself and all Will knew of him.  Prime example, the all consuming need that Hannibal had to be in control at all times.  Whether creating masterpieces in his kitchen, dissecting minds in the sanctity of his office, or holding court at the opera, Hannibal was in  _ control _ . And while his methods of maintaining that control varied from charming his audience to cutting them down to size with his sharp intellect, it all summed up the same.  With Hannibal in complete control of himself, the situation and the reactions and behaviors of those around him.  A very successful predator indeed.  

 

And like any successful predator, Hannibal set his own pace when stalking his chosen prey, and this hunt was no different.  But the controlled, careful pace the good doctor was pursuing him at was slowly driving Will insane.  Or more insane than was his normal state of being, anyway.

 

Well, enough was enough.

 

If Hannibal was the predator stalking him, then Will would play to his own strengths and create a few new rules for this game.  Fishermen were hunters too, just of a more subtle variety. Rather than stalking, they  _ lured _ .  And, as Hannibal was about to find out, Will was a damned fine fisherman.

 

_________________________________________

  
  


The early dawn light was just pushing the horizon when Will heard the gravel in his drive crunch under a set of tires.  Not needing to check as he was expecting only one person at this early hour, Will simply finished packing the coffee thermos and food he had prepared and then stepped out onto the porch to greet him.

 

The dogs had already been fed and let out earlier, but Will knew they liked Hannibal and would not be satisfied until they were allowed to greet him, so he let them out with a gentle command to be good and smiled as they ignored him completely to rush out to say hello to their second favorite human.  Hannibal climbed gracefully out of the Bentley and Will’s brain just….stopped.

 

Now, Will had explained in great detail to Hannibal what they would be doing today, (obtaining Hannibal’s agreement had cost Will a future trip to the opera and several long, wet kisses that left him hard and aching, but eventually victorious) and advised the older man to dress appropriately for the occasion.  Hannibal, it seemed, at taken him at his word.  

 

Jeans.  Hannibal Lecter was wearing _ jeans _ .  And not just any pair of jeans, but ones that looked well worn and soft from washing.  And fit him like a fucking second skin from the knees up.  Will knew Hannibal had a great body.  He had seen it before.   _ Once. _  The memory still haunted Will late at night.  Sometimes during the day, too.  But this….  This was a whole new level of torture.  Will never thought he would be envious of a pair of jeans, but  _ Goddamnit. _  The way they clung to the muscles of Hannibal’s thighs and crotch left little to the imagination and when Hannibal turned and bent to pet the dogs begging so happily for his attention, Will almost swallowed his tongue and joined their ranks.  That ass…..absolute perfection.  Will’s hands twitched with the urge to grab greedy handfuls and just  _ squeeze. _

 

As if feeling the lust in Will’s gaze, Hannibal looked up and smirked at him knowingly before giving the dogs a last pat on their furry heads and  _ stalking  _ up the steps of the porch to pull Will in for a lingering kiss.  Once Will’s brain was sufficiently fried, he pulled back with a smile.

 

“Good morning, mongoose.  Am I suitably attired for the adventure you have planned for me today?”  Laughter danced in those dark eyes, making Will snort in bemusement.

 

“I’m not about to stroke your very well developed ego by telling you just what I think of your clothing, Hannibal.  It’s quite large enough as it is.”  Will mumbled, trying to keep his tone dry and free of the arousal riding him, but the toothy smile on the other man’s face let him know he had failed miserably, as usual.  Nevertheless, Will pried his fingers from where they had curled in the soft cotton of Hannibal’s black, long sleeve v-neck and stepped back to give his question serious consideration.

 

Besides the fact that Hannibal made casual look damned fine, he was indeed dressed perfectly for what Will had planned.  His shirt would be warm enough with the addition of the jacket carried over the doctor’s arm and those sinful jeans, while soft and worn, were in good enough condition to protect his long legs from the brambles that lined the path to the river.  Even the hiking boots Hannibal had chosen were of a size that would fit easily into the waders he would have to don before entering the river.

 

The mental image of Hannibal in waders made Will smile, and suddenly he didn’t feel quite as off balance as he had since watching Hannibal step out of his car.  Herding the dogs into the house and asking Hannibal to carry the bag with the food and thermos, Will grabbed the rest of their gear and they set off for a day of fly fishing.  

 

And if everything went according to plan,  _ this _ date would end with the catch of a lifetime…..

 

__________________________________________________________

 

How in the hell anyone could make waders look attractive was beyond Will.  But standing next to Hannibal, thigh deep in the cold waters of his river, he had to admit that the doctor somehow managed to pull it off.  Instead of looking ridiculous, Hannibal just owned it, making it look as elegant and effortless as he did everything else.  It really wasn’t fair, Will thought with a sigh.  But there it was and there was no arguing with it.  Whether surrounded by civilization or out in the wild, Hannibal Lecter was a beautiful creature.  Will was so fucked.

 

Speaking of effortless….Will watched Hannibal make another cast, the line sailing out in a graceful arch across the water.  “Forgive the pun, but you’re really taking to this like a fish to water.  Are you sure you haven’t done this before, Doctor?”  Will smiled as Hannibal shot him a look for the analogy, a golden eyebrow cocked at him  and promising retribution.

 

“No, Special Agent Graham, I promise you that my fishing virginity belongs to you alone.”  The innuendo was delivered with a low purr in Hannibal’s accented voice and went straight to Will’s cock, making him groan quietly.  It also reminded him of the ulterior motives behind this little excursion.  Right.  Time to up the ante and see if he couldn’t put the cool and collected doctor off his game.

 

Giving a smirk of his own, Will ran his gaze over the other man from his windblown hair to where his thighs disappeared beneath the running surface of the river and made a thoughtful noise in his throat.  “But Hannibal….virginity is easy enough to fake and so hard to prove.  I’m not sure I believe you.”  As Hannibal choked on what could have been a surprised laugh, Will moved up behind where Hannibal stood, not quite pushing himself flush to the other man’s back, but close enough to it that he could feel the heat from Hannibal’s back against his chest.  Leaning in, he reached around and placed his hands over the other man’s, adjusting his hold on the rod and line minutely.

 

“Experienced or not, Doctor,” Will whispered mockingly, “your  _ technique _ could use some improvement.”  He was close enough that his breath ruffled the fine hairs on Hannibal’s nape and he delighted in the small shiver that escaped Hannibal’s control in reaction.  Keeping his touch light, Will directed Hannibal’s arm back, guiding his next cast with an easy flow of muscle and purpose.  It was all in the wrist...a movement that for Will required no thought, which was good, considering all his attention was focused on the words he continued to whisper against the warm skin of the man almost cradled in his arms.

 

“This is different from a hunt, Hannibal.  The concept is  _ almost _ the same, but your purpose now is to lure, not stalk.  Your prey is unseen, but you know it is there, waiting...watching.  Just as he knows you are here.  Oh, he can’t see you yet, not clearly, but he knows he’s being hunted just the same.”  Will paused, pressed a kiss to the now slightly damp skin of Hannibal’s neck before resting his chin on the other man’s shoulder, all pretense of showing Hannibal how to cast abandoned.

 

Hannibal hummed softly into the silence, pressing back against Will gently.  “So then, if I cannot stalk this elusive prey of mine, how then am I to effect it’s capture?”  Soft words, edged with a fine blade of hunger…

 

Burying a smile of triumph in the heavy material of Hannibal’s jacket, Will went in for the kill.  “Just like you do everything else, Hannibal.  Easily.  Effortlessly. Simply.  You offer him something he wants so badly that it overrides any and all sense of self preservation.  Tempting him until nothing else matters. The perfect lure.  You  _ coax _ him,  _ seduce _ him into behavior he knows is destructive, driving his want to the point he will do  _ anything _ , risk  _ everything _ to have that which he knows is so dangerous to covet.”  Tilting up to nip at Hannibal’s earlobe before sucking it into his mouth, Will released the now wet flesh only to press his lips to the shell of Hannibal’s ear.  “And haven’t you been doing  _ such _ a fine job of that so far, doctor?  Winding me up, dangling the promise of your possession in front of me for  _ weeks _ … Driving my  _ want _ for you until it has become an overwhelming  _ need _ ….” 

 

Will could not help the growl that filled his voice as he hissed the last word through gritted teeth any more than he could help the way his cock was throbbing inside his jeans.  He had managed to work himself up with his own words and now he was painfully hard, had been hard for far too long.  His control was at an end, and when Hannibal groaned, tilting his head to nuzzle into the lips still pressed tight to his skin, Will snapped. 

 

Reaching up to tangle the fingers of one hand in the soft strands of Hannibal’s hair, Will used the other to turn the older man enough to capture his lips with his own, kissing Hannibal with all the pent up passion and hunger brewing inside of him.  To his delight, not only did the older man allow the kiss, he responded enthusiastically, lips moving against Will’s own greedily as he reached up to cup Will’s cheek with a palm made cool from the spring air.  The angle was awkward, but neither cared, feeding off each other voraciously.  It was sloppy and messy and perfect.  And if the hungry, demanding noises Hannibal was making deep in his throat were any indication, Will’s plan to finally prod Hannibal into consummating their relationship was about to pay off.

 

Hannibal broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together as they both panted for breath.  This close, there was no missing the fact that Hannibal’s pupils were blown wide with lust, just a bare ring of blooded earth visible.  The heat and hunger in that gaze sent a thrill down Will’s spine and he was grateful that he had been optimistic enough about his success to secret a packet of lube into his pocket before leaving the house.  Hannibal looked in no mood to be gentle.  Still fighting to regain his breath, Will could only shudder at the predatory smile that curved Hannibal’s kiss swollen lips.

 

“Clever, cunning boy… Do you have any idea what I am going…”

 

Will never got to hear the end of that promising sentence.  The fishing rod, forgotten in the heat of the moment, jerked suddenly in Hannibal’s slack grasp, almost falling from his hand.  He tightened his grip instinctively, but Will, realizing what was happening, lunged to grab it at the same moment.  His forward momentum, combined with the awkward way Hannibal was standing, sent them both crashing into the water with a spectacular splash.

 

______________________________________________________________

 

Will glanced over his shoulder at where Hannibal sat upon his sad little bed, propped up on pillows at his back and his foot elevated on a folded blanket.  This is not how he envisioned finally getting Hannibal into his bed.  Turning back to the stove, he gave the stew he was cooking another quick stir and then went to get the bowls from the cupboard. 

 

Settling carefully on the bed to avoid jostling Hannibal’s injured ankle, Will passed a steaming bowl over with a mumbled warning about the hot contents before tucking into his own with another sigh.  So much for well laid plans he thought to himself dejectedly.  Instead of spending a night passionately entwined with his lover, he was instead nursing the other man’s injuries.  Injury caused by Will’s often lamented clumsiness.  If he didn’t know better, Will would say he was cursed.

 

The fall itself hadn’t been bad, if extremely unpleasant.  The cold water of the river had rushed through the open tops of their waders, soaking them thoroughly in places that did not appreciate the application of frigid water, instantly cooling any adore either man might have been suffering from.  Hannibal had landed on bottom, sheltering Will from the rocky bottom of the riverbed with his bulk, but swallowing quite a bit of river water when Will landed on top of him.

 

Both men had crawled from the river, soaked and sputtering.  But while Will was relatively uninjured, Hannibal hadn’t been so lucky.  After clearing both lungs and stomach of the water he had taken in, Hannibal had tried to stand, only to fall on his wader covered ass in the soft mud of the riverbank.  When Will had taken them down in his failed attempt at saving his fishing rod, Hannibal’s foot had caught on a rock and twisted, resulting in what he assured Will was only a minor sprain.

 

Minor or not, it had been painful enough that Hannibal could not walk unaided.  Leaving the fishing gear behind, Will had helped the doctor limp his way back up the path they had taken to get to the river, their progress painfully slow.  While the day had been quite warm for this early in the year, both men were soaking wet, and by the time they reached the house they were shivering uncontrollably and Will was wondering if it was possible to die from your dick freezing off.

 

Guilt for the mishap prevented him from gaining any enjoyment from helping Hannibal strip down to his underwear, even when Will knelt at Hannibal’s feet to peel the clinging denim of those evil jeans from the older man’s shivering thighs.  The doctor assured him that he could shower without assistance even with his injured ankle, so Will left him to it, keeping an ear out just in case as he set about the beginnings of a stew that would help warm them up. 

 

And here they now sat, Hannibal’s ankle wrapped and elevated, eating the stew Will had made and decidedly  _ not  _ making love.  Will just couldn’t win.  As if following Will’s thoughts, Hannibal made a comforting noise deep in this throat.

 

“Try not to be too despondent, mongoose.  If fate had not interceded, your clever plan would have been met with success and even now, you would moaning my name as I took you over and over again.”

 

Will groaned into his bowl, face flushing with embarrassment and a fresh spike of arousal both.  “Not helping, Doctor.”  Bumping Hannibal’s shoulder gently with his own, Will asked without looking up from his stew.  “You knew?”

 

Hannibal made that humming sound Will loved so much.  “I suspected.”

 

“Then why did you… You must really love watching me make a fool of myself.”  Will couldn’t help the bitterness that leached into his tone.  He had thought he was being subtle….

 

Setting his bowl aside and taking Will’s from him to do the same, Hannibal took his chin between two fingers and forced Will to meet his gaze.  The sheer possessive heat in Hannibal’s eyes robbed Will of the angry words coiled in his gut and replaced them with something warmer.

 

“On the contrary William, what I love watching is you wanting me.  It is extremely flattering to be desired so deeply that you, reluctant to engage with anyone, are willing to push yourself well past what you are comfortable with to not only try, but to  _ persist _ .  You have no idea how beautiful you are to me, how badly I want you.”  Leaning in to capture Will’s mouth with his own, Hannibal pressed their lips together in a long, drugging kiss.  The mewl of need that Will made when Hannibal ended the kiss was entirely beyond his control.  Still close enough that they shared breath, Hannibal smiled wickedly.  “You came very, very close to finding out just how much today.”

 

Releasing Will, Hannibal handed back his bowl and took up his own and continued to eat as if there had been no interruption.  As if he hadn’t just kissed Will stupid once again.  Sadly to say, Will was becoming accustomed to the feeling.  Grumbling under his breath about the unattractiveness of being a tease, Will resumed his meal as well.

 

Ignoring his grumbling, Hannibal only smiled.  “All things aside Will, I thank you for a truly memorable day.  It is one I shall recall fondly for years to come.”  The mischievous glint to Hannibal’s eyes should have warned him, but Will was still caught off guard, making him choke on his next bite of stew.  “I would not have wanted to lose my virginity to anyone else.”

 

Hannibal was just lucky Will chose to hit him with that pillow instead of smothering him with it instead.


	4. Long Distance Romance (Sort of?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was it. Will was finally going to get what he had been after. Hannibal had finally agreed they had waited long enough and the big night was planned. And then, shit happens. Will gets dragged out of town on a case and Hannibal is less than pleased about it.
> 
> What's a poor mongoose to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, CS here. For those of you still reading, apologies for the lengthy wait between updates. I really thought this chapter would be a breeze to write, cause how hard can phone sex be, right? Well, somebody forgot to tell Hannibal and the man refused to cooperate with me. I sit down to write, tell him this and this was going to happen and he'd just smirk at me and then go and do whatever the hell he wanted anyway.
> 
> And good God, can that man talk....
> 
> Anyways, sorry again for the wait, and if you are still hanging in there, FF and I are working on the final chapter tomorrow. Fingers crossed for a productive day!
> 
> As always, we don't own it, we're just along for the ride. And I beta my own stuff, so...yeah.

Will let his bag drop to the floor before falling forward like a felled tree to face plant on the hotel bed.  Everything  _ hurt,  _ from his hair to his toes, and he cursed himself again for letting Jack talk him into coming on this case when he was supposed to have had the next two weeks off.  He groaned into the itchy material of the ugly assed comforter covering the lumpy mattress and tried very hard not to feel sorry for himself as he remembered exactly what those two weeks of vacation were supposed to have included.

 

After weeks and weeks and  _ weeks _ of driving Will insane, Hannibal had  _ finally _ decided to stop being a tease and put Will out of his misery.  The words had barely left Hannibal’s mouth before Will had been on the phone to HR, adamantly requesting and subsequently being granted the two weeks off Hannibal had warned him he would need.  The delighted way Hannibal had laughed at the whoop of victory Will let out when he hung up the phone had done nothing to disguise the promise in the older man’s eyes even as he kissed him to silence.  And absolutely nothing could lessen the way Will shivered in anticipation everytime he remembered the way Hannibal’s voice had deepened, lowering to a sensual, mesmerizing purr to remind Will again about how he would be spending the first week proving to Will all the many and varied ways he hungered for him, and how the younger man was going to need the second week just to recover from the experience.

 

And then Jack had shown up in Will’s classroom the day before his vacation was to begin and fucking ruined _ everything…. _

 

“People are  _ dying,  _ Will!”  

 

If Will never heard that particular phrase, spoken in Jack’s booming baritone ever again, he would die a happy man.

 

As he always did, Jack wore Will down, hounding him with case files and pictures and Will caved, just as he always did.  To say Hannibal had been less than pleased would be the understatement of the year.  Will would swear for years to come that the temperature in Hannibal’s kitchen had dropped to sub zero levels within seconds of Will informing the older man that he would not be on vacation as planned.

 

It was kinda scary how absolutely  _ still _ Hannibal could go….like one of those big, predatory cats in the documentaries Will had loved watching as a child.

 

“That is unfortunate.”  So much said in such a short sentence...  One would never had guessed that it was only the prelude to the quietest, most polite, most  _ epic _ hissy fit Will had ever had the misfortune of being the target of. Hannibal Lecter could put the most dramatic of divas to shame, hands down.

 

Will had offered nervously to help with dinner preparations just to break the brittle silence that had followed those three little words, only to have Hannibal stare down his nose coldly before suggesting politely that Will might better spend his time reviewing the case files Uncle Jack had no doubt sent home with him.  In the study.  Away from Hannibal.  That last part had gone unsaid, but had been so heavily implied in Hannibal’s tone that it had sent Will scurrying from the kitchen like one of his own dogs after a scolding, head down and tail between his legs. Things had only gone downhill from there.

 

Will had tried to distract himself from his guilt by going over the files that Jack had indeed forced upon him, stuffing them in Will’s bag as he had stomped from his own classroom, disgusted with the overbearing man’s pushiness and his own weakness for giving in, but not even the bloody corpses that stared up at him from the glossy photos could hold his attention long enough for him to miss the loud, angry sounds coming from the kitchen.

 

One of Will’s favorite pastimes (besides kissing Hannibal as often as possible) was watching the other man perform in the kitchen.  And it was a performance, every damned time. Other people  _ cooked. _  Hannibal  _ created. _  Every move, every action, was one of grace and precision, a delicate dance that held both purpose and beauty that Will would never tire of watching.  Will had been in every room of Hannibal’s home by this point, and while all of them reflected some facet of the complicated man’s personality, none did so more thoroughly than the kitchen.  Hannibal owned whatever space he chose to occupy by the sheer force of his personality, but the kitchen was truly his domain and Will honestly felt that It embodied who Hannibal was at his core; the private, personal part of himself that the intensely private man shared with only a select few.

 

Will’s thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like a pan being slammed heavily against the stove top, followed immediately by what Will’s imagination suggested was a cleaver being used with extreme prejudice on whatever helpless cut of meat Hannibal had selected for that night’s entree.

 

Yup.  Hannibal was less than pleased.  Understatement. Of. The. Year.

 

Unfortunately, the mood carried over to dinner and beyond, every attempt at conversation made by Will being met with either clipped replies or snide politeness.  How one could be both snide and polite at the same time was beyond Will, but the other man managed to pull it of with huge success. After Will apologized sincerely for the unteenth dozen time, Hannibal did unbend enough to allow him to help with the dishes, but it was a cold affair, devoid of the ease and warmth that usually flowed between them.  When Hannibal moved away to stand with his back to Will when he had tried to embrace the older man, Will gave the evening up as a lost cause.  It didn’t set well with him to leave things the way they were, but it looked like the best thing he could do at this point was just to give Hannibal time and space to work through his fit on his own.

 

“Look, you obviously don’t want me here right now, and I have to catch an early flight tomorrow, so I’m just going to go.”  When his only answer was the stiffening of Hannibal’s spine, Will shook his head and left the kitchen.

 

He had just shrugged his jacket on, head down and fiddling with the fastenings when he was shoved hard into the wall, his back hitting the smooth surface with enough force to rattle the sconces mounted there.  Before he could react in the slightest, his arms were jerked up over his head, wrists held in a fierce grip by one of Hannibal’s large hands while the other wrapped possessively around his throat.

 

“Hannibal what the hell-”  Will’s protests were lost under the devouring, furious crush of Hannibal’s lips against his own, the other man not so much kissing as devouring his mouth, teeth and tongue clashing with Will’s as Hannibal fed his frustration into the angry press of lips.  Will had no idea how much time passed, but by the time Hannibal’s mouth parted from his, his lungs were screaming for air and he was only held upright by the grip pinning his wrists to the wall and the thigh Hannibal had wedged between his own.  Panting desperately for breath, he stared in fascination at the almost feral look in the older man’s eyes.  The cold indifference Hannibal had been treating him to all evening was gone, replaced instead with a proprietary heat that promised to burn Will with its intensity.  Oh, Hannibal was definitely still pissed, but it looked like he was  _ done _ with sulking.

 

Swallowing hard and shivering as his skin moved under the warm palm still pressed against his throat, Will offered him a lopsided grin.  “Still mad, huh?”

 

Hannibal’s chest rumbled with a growl more felt than heard, lips pulling back in a snarl before leaning in to nip the tip of Will’s ear in reprimand.  “Oh, you have no idea, mongoose, no idea  _ at all _ just how deeply my displeasure runs.  If Jack Crawford were to appear before us at this very moment, I would joyfully rend him limb from limb for his interferences.”

 

Will couldn’t help the way he was squirming, the entirety of Hannibal’s body now all but crushing his and drowning him in sensation.  The hard plain of Hannibal’s chest pressed to his, the heavily muscled thigh between his own subtly flexing against his crotch and now Hannibal’s mouth moving over the sensitive skin of his throat all combining to make Will want to whine in need.

 

“Would have _ -nnnggh- _ thought you more inclined to kill the messenger, Hannibal.”  Will tilted his head as far back as the wall and Hannibal’s grip would allow, baring more of his skin for the other man to mark.  “Just as much my fault as it is- _ God, _ do that again!”  The request bled into another moan as Hannibal indulged him with another press of his tongue against a particularly sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear.  Hannibal chuckled at the weak sound, but it felt so good, Will didn’t care.

 

“Oh, make no mistake Will, I am not well pleased with you either.  While I understand the reason you must go, I am man enough to admit that I resent the fact that you are going all the same, that you chose others over me.  I know that is not a fair assessment of the situation, but then again, I am not a fair man.  And I find myself far more inclined towards punishing you rather than ending you the way I wish to end poor Uncle Jack.” 

 

Hannibal’s suggestion of punishment caused something to twist hotly in Will’s gut, his cock now throbbing between his thighs like a second heartbeat and he blamed the lack of blood flow to his brain for his next bit of recklessness.  “Punish me, huh? And just how do you plan on doing that, _ Dr. Lecter?” _ As soon as the words left his mouth, Will wanted to slap himself.  When would he learn not to goad his dangerous and very creative almost lover?

 

Hannibal’s laugh was low and caressed across Will’s scenes like velvet ropes sliding over tauntly pulled skin.  “By making sure that you think of me…   _ Every. Single. Second _ you are gone from my side.”

  
  


There was no mistaking the sensual threat heavy in Hannibal’s voice, and Will barely managed to bit back a moan as the hand holding his throat released its grip to slowly slide down his chest and continue southward.

 

“Ah, Hannibal….”  Will’s stomach clenched as those long, graceful fingers caressed along its surface, the heat from Hannibal’s skin bleeding through the thin material of Will’s shirt and making him squirm against the wall he was still pinned to.  “I really don’t think this is necessary, I already don’t want to go and -”  His protests choked off into a gasp as Hannibal’s hand reached its intended destination, sliding under the waistband of his khakis and into his underwear to wrap around where Will was already painfully hard and leaking.

 

Hannibal pressed his cheek softly to Will’s, shushing him gently and making soothing noises even as he began to pump Will’s cock in a rhythm so slow as to be torturous.  His voice was almost kind as he murmured into Will’s ear, “It will only hurt until you come home to me, darling.”

 

When he had left Hannibal’s house half an hour later, Will was thoroughly disheveled and slightly dazed.  Lips puffy and swollen from Hannibal’s kisses, neck and chest reddened and bruised from Hannibal’s teeth and nails, and _so_ _achingly, excruciatingly hard_ that he wanted to cry.

 

And now, less than twenty four hours later, here he was, face buried in an ugly hotel comforter that smelt strongly of industrial detergent, feeling very sorry for himself indeed instead of being spread out on Hannibal’s God-Alone-Knows how many thread count sheets while being fucked to within an inch of his life.

 

Will strongly suspected that God hated him.

 

When Beverly waltzed through the door to the room moments later, it only reinforced those suspicions.  He would not be allowed to wallow in his misery in privacy tonight.  A lack of available rooms had prohibited that luxury and Will had been faced with a choice between sharing one of two of the last available double rooms with either Bev or Jack.  Since he was feeling less than benign towards the head of the BAU right now, the sassy scientist had seemed the lesser of the two evils.  He didn’t trust himself not to smother Jack while he slept.

 

He had forgotten how perseptive Bev could be.  And how merciless.

 

“What’s wrong, Graham?  Our little murderer ruin you big vacation plans?”  Will didn’t even have to roll over to look to know Bev was laughing at him.  He also knew there was no malice behind her sarcasm, just the kind of humor that said misery loves company.  She didn’t want to be there any more than he did.

 

Groaning tiredly, Will went ahead and flopped over onto his back so he wasn’t speaking into the blankets, flinching a bit as a worn mattress spring poked him rudely.  “Actually, yeah...he did.  And I plan on taking every opportunity available to thank him for that little fact when we find his ass.”  The words came out harsh as Will took a moment to picture it in his head.  Oh, the things Will wanted to do to this asshole for forcing him to come to butt-fucked middle of nowhere to hunt his sorry ass down…. He should have sensored himself better because of course Bev picked up on the dark undertone in his voice.

 

“Oooohhh, so you did have plans!  And from the pissed off sound of your voice, I’d say it was probably something more interesting than just a prolonged fishing trip.  Come on, Graham.  Spill it!”

 

Will fidgeted on the bed, one hand plucking nervously at the bedspread while trying and failing at keeping a blush from spreading across his face.  Refusing to meet the brown eyes he knew would be laughing at his obvious discomfort, Will instead found a point on the ceiling to stare at.  Unable to stand the silence after a few minutes, he finally cleared his throat enough to mutter a response.

 

“No big plans (God, had he  _ ever _ told a bigger lie in his life?) Just needed some time off.  Job’s been getting to me.”  Bev’s snort let him know what she thought of that answer.

 

“Nope, not buying it.  I bet you did have plans.  And I bet they were with Dr. Lecter. Rumor has it that you two are the new ‘it’ couple on the Baltimore society scene.”  Will’s head snapped in her direction, his expression one of horrified disbelief.  Bev smirked and pulled out her phone, tapping quickly before shoving it in his face to show him a picture of a newspaper clipping.  “Price reads the society page, did you know they still have those?  I didn’t believe him until he showed it to me.  You guys look good together.”

 

The clipping showed Will and Hannibal standing just inside the opera house lobby, Hannibal smiling proudly while Will looked on with a rather bewildered expression that clearly stated he was completely out of his depth, knew it, and was wondering what he was doing there.  That had been one of their better dates, in as much that it hadn’t ended in some epic disaster caused by something Will had either said or done.  Groaning unhappily, Will scrubbed over his face with both hands tiredly before he caved.

 

“Yes, we had plans.  And now that’s all fucked.  Again.  I don’t know how he puts up with me.  I’m like this walking dating disaster.”

 

“Aww…, there must be something he likes about you.  He keeps you around after all.”  She cocked an eyebrow suggestively.  “Maybe he thinks you’re just that good in bed, Graham.”

 

Will snorted and opened his mouth without thinking.  “Yeah, like he would know.”  He froze as the realization of what he just said hit him.  There was no way she would let that one go.

 

“You haven’t slept with him yet?  Are you nuts, Graham?  Why in the hell would you hold out on that fine piece of ass?”  Bev’s eyes got big as Will’s blush deepened.  “Oh my God, he’s been holding out on you?  And tonight was gonna be it, wasn’t it?   _ The  _ big night!  That’s why you’re so pissed about being here!”  Flopping down on the bed next to him, Bev rolled with laughter.  “Fuck Will, you have to have the worst luck of anyone I have ever met!  Cockblocked by a serial killer!”

 

Face a deep shade of fuschia by now, Will grabbed one of the pillows and thumped her less than gently on the head.  “Just shut up, will you?  It’s not fucking funny.”  Even Will could hear the sulk in his voice.

 

Bev stopped laughing, though she still sported a huge grin.  “Aww...don’t be like that Will.  I really am sorry your big night got screwed up.  It sucks.  But if he feels for you half of what that picture in the paper says he does, he’ll wait.”

 

Will let his annoyance go with a sigh.  He wasn’t really mad at Bev for laughing.  If it were happening to anyone else, even Will would have had to say it was funny.  “Oh, he’ll wait.  He’s  _ very _ good at waiting.  In fact, it has been  _ weeks and weeks  _ of nothing but waiting.  I’ve been ready to...you know...for what feels like forever, but Hannibal said he wanted to do it right, to  _ court  _ me.  I just think he likes driving me insane.”

 

“Well, it might mean he cares enough about you to want to make it special.  You know, to make sure you understand that it means something to him, that it's not just a casual fling.”  Will grunted in reluctant agreement; he already knew Hannibal was serious about this being a long-term relationship, but it made him feel good to hear Bev’s assessment fall in line with his own.  And then she ruined it.  “Or it could just mean he enjoys winding you up for shits and giggles.”

 

Will hit her with the pillow again.  Maybe more than once.

 

Before things could get too out of hand, Will’s phone rang, bringing an end to their impromptu pillow fight.  The caller ID showed it was Hannibal and Will couldn’t help the grin that split his face when he saw who it was.  Shooing Bev off his bed and towards her own, Will propped himself up on the rearranged pillows and answered.  “Speak of the devil… Hello Hannibal.”

 

There was a slight pause and Will could almost see Hannibal’s eyebrows raise at the unusual greeting and there was most definitely a smile in the other man’s voice when he answered.

 

“Hello Will.  Have I been the subject of conversation then, dear boy?”  

 

Will shifted a bit on the bed, the knotted muscles in his shoulders and neck relaxing as some of the tension faded away at the sound of Hannibal’s voice.  It was odd, the effect that deep, accented voice had on him, able to calm or excite depending on the doctor’s mercurial moods.  It had been that way since the beginning, and Will had stopped fighting it around the first time Hannibal had kissed him.  It wasn’t a fight he was interested in winning anymore.

 

“A bit.”  Will smiled at the pleased hum Hannibal made, his ego no doubt inflating another fraction.  “Don’t feel too flattered, Hannibal.  It was a very  _ small  _ conversation.”  With several states between them, Will felt safe enough to tease.  There was nothing the other man could do with so much distance separating them, the phone their only connection for now.

 

“And here I thought to find you exhausted from working diligently on finding your killer so that you may return to me.  Instead, I discover you full of sass and with energy enough to mock me…”  Hannibal made that little _ tisking _ noise, the one that never failed to stir something in Will’s gut whenever it was aimed at him.  “What’s to be done about that…”

 

Will smirked into the phone.  “Well, not much considering I’m here and you’re there, but I’m sure you’ll come up with a way to make me pay for it later.”

 

“Oh, but I think you need to pay for it  _ now,  _ darling boy.  Tell me Will, have you been thinking about me as I instructed you to when last we were together?”

 

If the purr in Hannibal’s voice wasn’t enough of a clue, the reminder of how they last parted told Will  _ exactly  _ what the other man intended and where this conversation was headed.  Glancing franticly over towards the other bed, he was relieved to see Bev bent over her laptop with her earbuds in.  He lowered his voice to a whisper anyway, just in case.  Bev could be sneaky.

 

“Hannibal, I’m not sure this is a good idea.  I’m not alone.  The hotel didn’t have enough rooms and I’m having to share a double.”

 

“All the better.  You will just have to control yourself, contain your responses as best you can whilst I whisper filth in your eager ears.”  Hannibal’s voice turned downright predatory, the deep rumble sending a dark thrill up Will’s spine.  “It is rather fitting, that having chosen to abandon our plans to run off with the FBI, that you now must sit in their company, listening as I describe in exquisite detail all that I had planned for you had you stayed where you belong.”

 

“Hannibal….”  Will voice was already shaky, exasperation and excitement warring for dominance, one edging out the other fast.

 

“Will.”  Hannibal mocked.  “If you do not wish to listen, you could always hang up.  Do you want to hang up, Will?”

 

“You know I don’t, you prick.”  Will hissed.  “Just give me a minute, let me go into the bathroom.”  Will moved to the edge of the bed, the front of his trousers already tenting obscenely.  If he didn’t go now, if Bev happened to look up, it would be obvious what was going on and Will didn’t feel like giving her any more ammunition to use against him.

 

“No, Will.  Stay right where you are.  Part of what is so enjoyable about this situation is the fact that you will have to conceal your responses to what I am doing to you.”

 

“Hannibal, the pants I am wearing are not conducive to hiding a boner!”  Will argued in a whispered shout.  “It’s not about keeping my face blank and staying quiet. Beverly Katz is sitting not four feet from me and there is no way she’s gonna miss seeing the bulge tenting my khakis!”

 

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully, considering.  “You may place a pillow in your lap.  That should be sufficient enough camouflage to solve your dilemma.  Do what is needed to make yourself comfortable, but you  _ will _ stay where you are.” 

 

“Or what?”  Will challenged, even as he settled back onto the bed, covering his lap with the extra pillow as Hannibal suggested.

 

“Or I will end this now and we can discuss trivial matters instead.  Would you like to hear about the article I am preparing for the Journal of Psychiatry, or perhaps what I prepared for dinner this evening?”

 

“God, you’re a real bastard. You do know that, right?”

 

Hannibal tsked in disapproval but not necessarily in disagreement.  “I do hope you realize the distance between us will not save you from the consequences of letting your mouth run away with you.  It has become quite naughty, your language.  Perhaps I should take you over my knee when next the opportunity presents itself.” 

 

Will sucked in a sharp breath, almost choking on it as his mind flashed to the mental image Hannibal’s sensual threat conjured.  And of course, Hannibal heard.  Of course he did, because when it came to cataloguing Will Graham’s responses to  _ everything, _ there was very little Hannibal missed.  There was only a moment’s pause before that deep purr rumbled across the miles to continue in his ear, Hannibal refocused now on this new, interesting response like a wolf that had stumbled across a lamb unexpectedly.

 

“Would you enjoy that, dear boy?  I think you would.  I think you would stand before me, face flushed in embarrassment, breath coming a bit faster the longer I made you wait, your lovely body all but trembling with arousal as you waited to see what I intended to do to you.  Your hands would shake a bit with nerves when I instructed you to lower your trousers, but you would do it, wouldn’t you Will?”

 

“Yes…”  Will’s answer was a mere whisper of breath between his parted lips, Hannibal’s voice and his own imagination sucking him under and into the world Hannibal was weaving for him.

 

“Yes, I know you would.  Such a good boy for me.  I would take a moment to look at you, to commit you to memory.  You would be so lovely, limbs vibrating with tension as you tried not to squirm under my gaze, both dreading and wanting  _ so badly _ what I am about to do to you.  Hoping desperately that I would not notice how painfully hard the anticipation has made you.  But of course, I would.  And the knowledge that I am well aware of your state would only increase your arousal to an almost unbearable level.”

 

Will’s groan was low and soft, offering nothing but confirmation for the other man’s words. He would be exactly as Hannibal described.  Embarrassed and aroused, almost panting with lust while standing with his pants around his ankles and only his shirt hanging down to hide his erection from Hannibal’s knowing gaze.  The sick feeling of being over exposed would swirl in his gut to mix with the lust and he had not a single doubt in his mind that he would indeed be helplessly squirming long before Hannibal ever touched him.

 

“And then, when you’ve looked your fill?  When you’ve seen enough? Then what would you do?”  The breathy quality to Will’s voice made the blush that seemed to live permanently on his face now deepen; Will could feel the heat in his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose.  He didn’t care.

 

“And then, my darling, naughty boy… I would gently guide you over my knee, taking my time to place you just so, your upper and lower body braced upon the cushions so that you would not be distracted with fears of falling, the lush, round globes of your bottom tilted at the perfect angle to receive your chastisement.  Can you picture it, Will?  Can you picture how lovely you would look spread out for me like that?”

 

“Hannibal….”  Will’s eyes had closed at some point, he didn’t know when, but they opened now in narrow slits, not seeing the hotel room that trapped him so far from where he desperately wanted to be but only the images Hannibal’s voice painted for him.  “Hannibal,  _ please….” _

 

Hannibal went on as if Will hadn’t spoken, ignoring the plea, both of them knowing Will had no idea what he was asking for at this point—for Hannibal to stop, for him to go on?  It didn’t matter.  Hannibal would stop when he was satisfied he had reduced Will to a wrung out heap and not a moment before.   “I can picture it Will, so very clearly and in great detail.  The way your pale skin would glow in the low light from the fireplace, almost ethereal against the dark material of the cushions and my clothing.  The fine tremor of muscle barely visible below the surface as you try so hard to stay still, to fight the need to rut and rub yourself against my thighs.  You would bury your head in your folded arms to try and hide your shame, wouldn’t you...almost sobbing because you know how futile it is to try hiding anything from me… Shameful boy, already so hard and leaking, spreading your mess all over my slacks…”

 

Another choking whine left Will’s lips, his head thumping softly against the wall supporting him as his knees drew up and crushed the pillow caught between his tensed thighs.  He was, God help him. He was  _ so _ hard, leaking and making a sticky mess of himself, the rough, clinging material of his cheap clothing a poor substitute for the fine material of Hannibal’s suits and how soft they would feel against his skin.

 

“You never let me hide from you.  Not anything.  You want it all… Peel my layers back, bit by bit...leave me feeling exposed and raw…. You like me that way.  Just for you.”  Will was all but panting now, desperate draws for air that were never enough.

 

“Yessss….”  It was almost a hiss, undulating down the line and across the miles that separated them, giving Will a heady rush with the knowledge that although Hannibal was the one weaving this spell, he was as affected by what was between them as Will was.  “Exposed, vulnerable to all that I wish to do to you.  But not weak, never weak.  There’s a store of strength in you, Will.  A core of granite.  That’s why I know I can do this, because you are strong enough to take what I give you. Why I know that you won’t flinch away when the first smack of my hand heats your tender flesh and paints it with color.”

 

Will can almost feel the sting, buttocks clenching in reflex at the phantom blow.  “I might jump.  It would startle me I think.  I’ve never been…”  Will lets his voice trail off, unable to actually get the word past his lips.   _ Spanked.... _ He was a grown assed man, for fucks sake!  Why this was turning him on so hard was beyond him, but there was no denying the tight clench of lust coiling deep in his gut or the way his hips were making tiny, aborted thrusts against the pillow wedged against his groin.  “Never gave my dad much reason to and there was nobody else…”

 

“Ah, but now you have me.  And you’ve given me a plethora of reasons, haven’t you Will?  More than enough to justify my taking you firmly in hand.  You’ve earned every slap and spank I give you, deserve and need the pain and the pleasure I make your body take.  And there will be pleasure, sweet boy, so much.  Between the blows I lay against your skin, there will be gentler touches.  Your bottom will be so hot now, red and punished under my palm.  But you won’t fight me, even though I hurt you so.  No, you are always my good boy, my good Will.  Even when I must correct you.”

 

“I want to be… I would try to be good.”  Will slid down on the bed, curling around his badly crumpled pillow, face pressed once more into the ugly motel bedspread and holding onto his phone like a drowning man to a lifeline.   _“I would try_ _so_ _hard…”_

 

“I know you would.  And I would reward you.  You would be sobbing now, struggling to stay still for me, to let me do as I please with you.  I must admit, those soft, hurt little noises you would make would be so sweet in my ears knowing that they will soon be mixed with moans of pleasure.  I imagine that you would be so far into your headspace by this time, you won’t realise what I am doing at first, when I nudge your thighs a bit wider, tilt your hips up just a touch more so that your most intimate flesh is exposed to my gaze.  But the sound you would make at the first brush of my fingers there...oh,  _ that  _ is an utterance I long to hear.”

 

Will doesn’t know what kind of sound he will make when that moment finally comes, but he’s pretty damned sure the whimpering whine that escapes him just then is pretty damned close.  Hannibal must think so as well, if the amused hum Will hears in his ear is any indication.

 

“Of course, you would tense up all over again with that first touch, and I would spend long minutes soothing you with gentle pets and soft noises until you settle down enough to relax against me once more.  It is always like that with you, darling Will.  One step forwards, two back.  A constant struggle, but so very worth it when you finally stop fighting and let go.  You give over so beautifully for me in those moments…”

 

“Tell me...God Hannibal tell me what comes next.”  Will was practically on his belly now, his much abused pillow shoved between the worn mattress and his slowly circling hips as he panted into the phone.  “Tell me how you would touch me... _ there.” _

 

“Gentle, but firm pressure at first… Just enough to coax you into relaxing for me, teasing caresses and barely there touches until you begin to unfurl for me, your tight opening fluttering against my fingertips.  You would be squirming a bit now, I think, the sensations all too new and overwhelming.  I would need to hold you closer then, an arm firm around your waist.  But you’re not trying to get away, are you Will?  No, you are squirming for more, so eager and greedy for what I give you.  The lube would be warm from being in my pocket, but you would still twitch and gasp in surprise when I pour it over where you are so much warmer, would whimper and whine as I spread it across the delicate flesh I am about to breach….”

 

Will could only moan softly, his hips moving faster now, dangerously close to disobeying Hannibal’s decree about coming without permission.  “Hannibal, please…. I’m so close.”

 

“Not until I say, Will.”  Hannibal’s voice was rough with lust as he issued the command, the iron control he always held himself under cracking under the strain of their shared need. There was a slight russling across the line, cloth shifting and the distinct sound of a belt being undone.  The hiss of a zipper being worked had Will’s eyes opening wide.

 

“Hannibal are you..”  He was almost breathless, the memory of watching Hannibal touching himself in his office merging with the fantasy the doctor had spent the last hour creating to leave Will a mess of desperate want.

 

“Mmmm… I am.  Do not think yourself the only one affected, sweet boy.  It is a poor substitute for the slide of your skin against my own, but it will have to do for now.  Tell me, Will…. Would you open sweetly for me, or would you make me work for every inch gained into the tight heat of your body?”

 

_ “Oh God, _ I don’t know...I don’t know, Hannibal.”  Will was lost.  Lost in the seduction of Hannibal’s voice, the images dancing across his heated mind and the sounds of skin against skin whispering lewdly in his ear.

 

“It would not matter, sweet boy.  Either way, you  _ will _ let me in.  An easy glide or a firm push, I will breach you, open you up to make a space for me  _ deep _ inside of you as you writhe across my lap.  One finger, and then two… You would be so  _ tight _ Will, so that even with the lubricant easing the way, you would make me work to move within you.  The way you would clench and cling with every thrust and withdrawal of my fingers would only drive the need to see you loose and stretched, ready and eager for my cock, even higher.”

 

The wet sounds of Hannibal pleasuring himself rang loud in Will’s ears and he didn’t even need to imagine it to see.  He  _ knew  _ what Hannibal’s cock looked like pistoning into the clenched grip of his fist, remembered the way the veins stood out against the swollen shaft and how, when his foreskin slipped back, how it exposed the angry red glands of his cockhead and he way the precum glistened and dribbled from his slit.

 

Words were beyond him now, all Will could do was bite at the blankets, praying that it muffled some of the noise he was unable to contain.  Hannibal wasn’t going to stop and Will was going to come in his pants untouched like a teenager.  Just as he had that first time.  The whimper that left his lips was loud even through is improvised gag, almost a keening wail that Hannibal eagerly lapped up.

 

“Yes, just like that Will.  You would be making the most delicious noises for me now, rutting against my thighs, making a mess of my expensive clothing as your body struggled to know what it wanted more.  You need the friction against your aching cock so badly, but find yourself chasing the slide of my fingers inside you just as much….rocking your hips between the two sensations, torn between what you desire more.  I wonder what kind of sounds you will make for me when I crook my fingers just so, stroking over your prostate for the first time.  Would you howl for me, dear boy?  Scream until there is no air left in your lungs as I rub against that spot over and over and  _ over _ again?”

 

Will was ready to scream now, teetering on the edge of what was sure to be a mind melting orgasm after being denied for so long.  Hannibal’s words and his panted breaths in Will’s ears had every muscle in the younger man’s body stretched tight on the precipice of release.  “Hannibal, you have to  _ stop. _  If you don’t I’m gonna come.”  It was a whimpered plea for mercy that went ignored, Hannibal’s voice harsh with his own impending orgasm.

 

“I would not be gentle with you now, Will.  I could not be, not after waiting so long to have you like this.  I would be ruthless in my need to see you shatter, hungry to take all that you have to give me, greedy for it.  I want every whimper and moan and scream I can tear from your trembling lips, every flex and roll of your body against mine, every tremor and clench and shudder of your climax.  They are mine, Will.   _ And I will have them all…” _

 

Will had reached the point of no return.  It didn’t matter if Hannibal stopped now or if he continued to pour beautiful filth in Will’s ears.  He couldn’t hold it back anymore.   _ “Hannibal….” _

 

“Yes,  _ now _ beloved.  Come with me!”  The obscene noises stilled, the only sounds between them now were sharply drawn breaths and their echoing moans.  Will’s body was drawn tight across the bed, back arched in pleasured agony as he was finally allowed release, mind whited out, only room for Hannibal there now.  It seemed to go on forever before his exhausted body collapsed back onto the bed, boneless and sated for now.

 

“God, Hannibal.  That was… Is that what you had planned when you called tonight?”  Will rubbed a hand tiredly across his face.  Now that some of the tension had been released, he realized just how tired he really was.

 

Hannibal huffed a laugh in his ear, his voice rueful and a bit embarrassed when he answered.  “Not exactly, no.  I had just intended to remind you of what you could have had if you had chosen to stay where you belong.  This was unexpected.  But I do not regret that it occured.”

 

Will laughed softly in return, not bothering to fight the silly grin spread across his face.  “Yeah, me neither.”  

 

“Come home to me,  _ mylimasis.   _ Do what you must, hurry to find your killer and come home to me.”

 

Will swallowed hard at the quietly spoken words, chest tightening with the soft longing in the other man’s voice.  “I will.  I promise.”

 

A few more gentle words between them and they ended the call, Will dropping the phone onto the mattress as he rolled onto his back.  Giving in to the urge to stretch, Will groaned in pleasure as muscles now lax with release flexed and eased with his motions.  He grimaced in disgust at the wet pull of his clothing across his groin, sticky and cold now as it clung to his skin. He really needed a shower.  A slight russling sound from the bed across from his own froze him in the act of setting up, horror slowly dawning in his mind.

 

_ Beverly. _  How the  _ fuck _ had he forgotten Beverly fucking Katz was in the room with him?  Had probably witnessed the whole thing, watched in gleeful delight as Hannibal slowly took him apart with just his voice.  If there was a god, and he truly didn’t hate Will Graham, there was a chance she had slept through the whole thing.  The high pitched giggle emanating from her side of the room shattered that illusion nicely.

 

“Damn, Will.  No wonder you’ve got it so bad.  He’s good.  Didn’t even need to be here to wreck you.”

 

Will refused to look at her, keeping his eyes firmly shut as he tried not to squirm under her laughing gaze.  “You know, the decent thing to do would have been to go into the bathroom or something.  Give a guy a bit of privacy.”

 

“I thought about it for about.  For like, two seconds.  Decided I didn’t want to interrupt you by moving around.  Besides, that was the hottest thing I have  _ ever _ seen.  I don’t know what he was saying to you, but watching your reactions was... just damn. I mean, the way you were moving, the sounds,  _ fuck. _  Like something out of a really kinky wet dream.  No way I was passing up that show.”

 

Will considered throwing a pillow at her again, (the clean one, not the poor, ruined mess he had been rutting against for the last hour.  That one needed to be burned, crushed and damp from Will’s spend as it was.)  He couldn’t even really be mad at her for watching.  It was his own fault for losing his head in such a spectacular fashion.  But that was just the effect Hannibal had on him.  The man could make Will forget everything and everyone but him.

 

“I suppose I should just be grateful you didn’t record it to show Z and Price.”  Will was still embarrassed, but amusement was creeping in.  At least Hannibal had made him keep his clothes on.

 

“Nah, they’d never get anything else done if I showed them something like that.  Price would want to watch it frame by frame with commentary and Zellar would probably swallow his tongue.  Just be glad you weren’t sharing a room with Jack tonight.  Can you picture his face?”

 

They both burst out in giggles at that, snorting and laughing so hard the person in the next room banged on the wall.  Which of course lead to more laughter, both of them rolling on their beds and holding their sides.

 

Will finally got his shower, letting the warmth and noise from the water lull him.  The last thing he remembered before sleep claimed him was the love and longing in Hannibal’s voice.

  
_“Come home to me,_ _mylimasis.”_


	5. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just came from a crime scene where you may as well have written a message addressed to me on the wall with the victim’s blood: Will Graham, your presence is requested at the Lecter household. That was sloppy and reckless and I had to bite my tongue. There are only a certain amount of surgically trained people linked to the FBI, Jesus Christ.” He threw his hands up in frustration, gaging the completely nonplussed look being burned into him. “I know you’re the fucking Ripper, Hannibal.”
> 
> “Language, Will.” The reprimand was almost a reflex, the greater part of Hannibal’s brain being furiously occupied with the emotions that Will’s declaration sent rioting through him. Will knew. He didn’t suspect, he didn’t think, he knew and had openly admitted it. And yet, here he still stood, in Hannibal’s kitchen, chastising him for being careless instead of showing up with a swat team to arrest him. Hannibal wondered briefly if he had fallen asleep after returning home and was now having a very lucid dream. The blue eyes shooting fire at him from across the kitchen isle assured him he was awake and this longed-for moment was very, very real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it folks. I apologise this took so freaking long, that - for the most part - is my own fault. I have been so badly blocked and CS has been very patient with me *purrs*
> 
> This is the last part of this series, finally completed and ready to lead straight into Who Brings Graham Crackers to a Wedding? We will probably do timestamps here and there cos this was hella fun. But for now ... *gestures widely at copious amounts of WIP's*
> 
> We are the worst CS. But the Best Worst. So here you go, enjoy it! It was fun getting here at last, I hope you enjoy it, too!
> 
> Love FFM and CS <3

“And….” Bev dragged the word out as she poked a finger at the corpse’s open torso, squatting in front of the tableau. “Yup… there are some other organs missing.”

Will already had his hands on his hips, frowning intently at the scene and now he had to refrain from actually rolling his eyes.

“So, let me get this straight,” Jack was still pacing around the edges of the crime scene, distracted by his own thought, “Just as the killer—and I am going to assume _this_ is confirmation of that fact—comes under our radar, he winds up dead and,” he gestures widely at the scene, “displayed?”

“It would seem so.” Will muttered, ignoring his surroundings for once. He didn’t need to see any more evidence, in fact, he didn’t _want_ to see anymore.

“So a vigilante?” Bev said, peering over her shoulder at Jack.

“A vigilante wouldn't have been so _indulgent_.” Will wrinkled his nose, trying and failing to keep the irritation from his voice, “This is someone who is close to the bureau. Someone with specific skills to arrange this. Someone exasperated with how long we are taking to solve this case and someone we already know. They want our attention.” The words were all too close to home but he knew Jack would hear what he wanted.

“This is the Ripper?” Jack’s eyes burned into the side of Will’s face in their normally penetrative but short-sighted nature.

“Come on, Jack. Who else has this MO? It’s obvious.” Will turned away from the scene to watch the sun climbing over the trees. He was sick of looking and pretending he didn’t know exactly what he was seeing and the clear message behind it. He needed to get home.

“So… why would the Ripper help? And what’s the message?” Bev had returned to her study of the slain killer as though it was a crossword puzzle in the back of a newspaper.

“Well,” Jack took a step closer, weighing and measuring the body in an instant. “His heart is cut out and in his hand, maybe the Ripper thinks he is heartless? We already know he has a specific set of moral codes no one understands. Or maybe he is saying the killer’s heart is on his sleeve? There was an emotional connection with his victims-”

“No.” Both Bev and Jack turned to Will. “He’s at home, he’s sat on his own doorstep, keys in one hand and his own heart in the other; _home is where the heart is,”_ Will said bitterly. “It’s not even clever.”

“That doesn’t make any more sense, or explain why he did this… _for us.”_ Bev was now studying the keys dangling from the end of her pen. “It looks like he used these keys to cut him open. He was in a rush.”

_Sloppy, rushed and obvious._ Will held his tongue, frightened he would explode and say even more than he had already.

“It looks like he wants our undivided attention and soon. Perhaps he has something planned?” Jack’s eyes were back on the body and he missed the grim smile that spread on Will’s face. Jack didn’t know how right he was. With that thought, Will turned and strode away from his colleagues,

“Where are you going, Graham?” Bev called out.

“We are needed at home so it would seem. There’s nothing more I can do here and I don’t want to see what the Ripper is capable of if we push his patience too far. Like you said, Jack, he wants our attention.” Will didn’t even look back at the scene as he slid into the driver's seat of the rental. He needed to get home, up until this point it had been Hannibal who had the right to be pissed off. As the key turned in the ignition, Will wondered exactly how shocked the Doctor would be at his own reckoning.

* * *

Hannibal was tired, but it was the kind of tired that brought with it the satisfaction of having accomplished a difficult task.  The drive to and from the little middle of nowhere town his Will was currently embedded in had been taxing. The hunt for the pitiful excuse for a serial killer that had ruined Hannibal’s carefully crafted plans for taking Will to his bed, not so much.

Having procured Will’s password to the FBI’s database several weeks ago had now paid off, allowing Hannibal to access the files on this particular killer and giving him all the information he needed to identify him with ease.  Will may be able to _think_ like a killer, but he was still blinded in a way by his own moral compass.  Hannibal had no such handicap.

Once he had the identity, the rest had been easy.  He followed the man home from his place of employment and waited until he had retired for the night.  Normally Hannibal would take his time stalking his prey, learning their habits and patterns before striking, but he did not have the luxury of time nor the patience to draw this particular hunt out.  Hannibal wanted Will home. _Now._ So he would eliminate the one factor prohibiting that event from occurring.

If he was perhaps a bit more... _brutal_ in accomplishing that goal than was usual, well...considering the circumstances, Hannibal felt he could be forgiven just this once.  Opening the man up with his own house key had been a nice touch in his opinion.

With time being a factor, Hannibal had kept things simple, the message almost blatant in its display.   Hannibal’s lips curved into a smile. Perhaps even Jack may have been able to see it without Will’s help this time?  He would ask his mongoose when he arrived.

Glancing at the clock on the mantel, Hannibal calculated he had an hour or two until Will should show up on his doorstep, either exhausted and in need of comfort or gloriously furious if Hannibal’s work had finally confirmed the suspicions Will had been harboring for so long.  He would have been kept at the scene by Jack for several hours, the older man pushing hard for Will’s insights, never one to let a chance to worry a Ripper kill to death when given the opportunity. And Hannibal had made sure that this would read as a Ripper scene and not just another copycat, both to antagonize Jack and to urge Will to return to Baltimore and home to Hannibal where he belonged.

Pouring himself a glass of wine, the doctor began browsing through recipes, trying to decide on what dish would be perfect to welcome his mongoose home with when the sound of a key being turned in the front door lock reached his ears.  It seemed Will had arrived ahead of schedule. Clever boy…..

_“Hannibal!”_ Will pushed the door open with slightly more zeal than intended causing it to slam against the wall. His fingers gripped the edge of the wood as it ricocheted back at him, slamming it firmly behind him before striding purposefully into the Doctor’s house. “I know you’re home.” His voice rang out loudly in the quiet house. He came to an abrupt stop as he entered the kitchen to find a relaxed looking Hannibal, wine glass in hand and idly fingering through recipes. He dropped his bag onto the floor, trying to restrain himself from laying his hands on the other man. “You are some piece of work, you know that?”

A single golden eyebrow lifted elegantly, amusement curling Hannibal’s lips just a fraction as he took in Will’s rather frazzled appearance and the aggressive, disgruntled expression on his face.  “Welcome home, mongoose. I am afraid you will have to be a bit more specific as I am sure I have no idea as to what you are referring to.” Hannibal couldn’t resist poking the bear as it were, the sight of a Will on the verge of losing his temper too alluring to pass up.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean, _Dr. Lecter._ ” Will grimaced at the unruffled man in front of him. He was going to take this as a joke wasn't he? Another game. Hannibal had placed the half glass of wine down on the countertop and without asking, Will grabbed for it and upended the entire contents into his own mouth in one go. He was thirsty. “Busy day, hm? I bet you have been running around haven’t you?”

Trying to hide a grimace at the abuse of yet another glass of fine wine at the hands of Will Graham, Hannibal gave a noncommittal hum in response to the question that was phrased more as an accusation than anything.  “You know me, Will. I am very good at finding ways to occupy my time. Though I must admit, without you here, it has been more of a challenge than usual…” Hannibal let his voice trail off, fascinated by the rising color creeping up Will’s neck to flush his face with temper.  He wondered idly just how much further he could push…

“You think its a joke, don’t you?” Will huffed, exasperated by the other man’s complacency. “You are aware of what I do for a living, Hannibal? You haven’t suffered some head injury that I am unaware of because quite frankly, I thought you were smarter than this.” He ground his teeth together trying to keep his anger under control, but the small smile that was curving Hannibal’s mouth was pushing his limits. He was hanging on by a thread now.

Hannibal’s smile disappeared at the insult, his eyes narrowing in displeasure.  Really, he had all but gift-wrapped that poor excuse of a killer for Will and he was to be repaid with insults?  Masking his irritation by pouring another glass of wine, Hannibal tried to keep his tone reasonable. “You are fatigued William, so I will forgive you your sharp tongue.  I had hoped you would be more pleased with being home and in my company again. Are you not happy to be home Will, regardless of how it was accomplished?”

“ _Happy_ ? Hannibal…” Will gaped for a moment, off balance by Hannibal’s genuine affront. “I just came from a crime scene where you may as well have written a message addressed to me on the wall with the victim’s blood: _Will Graham, your presence is requested at the Lecter household._ That was sloppy and reckless and I had to bite my tongue. There are only a certain amount of surgically trained people linked to the FBI, Jesus Christ.” He threw his hands up in frustration gaging the completely nonplussed look being burned into him. “I know you’re the fucking Ripper, Hannibal.”

“Language, Will.”  The reprimand was almost a reflex, the greater part of Hannibal’s brain being furiously occupied with the emotions that Will’s declaration sent rioting through him.  Will knew. He didn’t suspect, he didn’t think, he _knew_ and had openly admitted it. And yet, here he still stood, in Hannibal’s kitchen, chastising him for being careless instead of showing up with a swat team to arrest him.  Hannibal wondered briefly if he had fallen asleep after returning home and was now having a very lucid dream. The blue eyes shooting fire at him from across the kitchen isle assured him he was awake and this longed-for moment was very, very real.

Adoration, panic, bewildered pleasure and a slight sense of fear for what would come next all warred for dominance within his head and breast, confusing and disorientating him.  In all the fantasies he had entertained of this moment, Hannibal had always been in control, smooth and confident as Will either broke beneath the knowledge or was transformed by it.  But in reality, Will just looked….exasperated. Not impressed at all. It took the wind out of Hannibal’s sails, leaving him uncertain as to how to react and a bit off balance. Hannibal didn’t do off balance well.  It made him snippy.

“I am pleased you were _finally_ able to put the pieces together to form the complete picture Will, but I believe you are overreacting to the situation.  It is highly unlikely Jack will be able to make the connections you have and I left no physical evidence for your forensics team to find.  You are behaving irrationally.” He added a sniff of disdain to emphasize his point before taking a long drink of his wine to cover his unease.

_“Irrationally?”_ Will repeated, not able to believe the nonchalant words coming out of Hannibal’s mouth. “Hannibal I can't be at crime scenes that you are responsible for. I just can’t. It’s taken long enough to accept the fact that I _accept_ you. You can’t make me look at it like that and use it as an obtuse way for you to get me back here. That is just…. Irresponsible. Did I say reckless?”

He had understood Hannibal when he entered his office and hid all those months ago. Feeling this pull towards something he was supposed to be working against was hard enough as it was without Hannibal treating it like a joke. He didn’t even have the decency to look surprised or deny the accusations. But, then again, Hannibal probably already knew that Will knew and this was just a game of who could say it first. Well, Will had won, or lost. Depending on rules he had no fucking clue about. That was all pointless anyway, what mattered was Hannibal not getting himself caught.

“Do you want to get caught? It’s only a matter of time before you do if you keep this up.” Grabbing the bottle of wine, Will ignored the scowl aimed at him as he filled the glass, sploshing red onto the white of the countertop. There. If Will had to clean up Hannibal’s mess the least he could do was return the favor.

“Don’t be tiresome, Will.  I have no intentions of being caught, now or in the future.  Jack is no closer to the Ripper’s identity now then he was when he began his pitiful hunt.”  Unable to ignore the wine currently staining his counter, Hannibal grabbed a dishcloth and began wiping up the spill.  “Unless of course, you intend to turn me in. In which case, this conversation is going to become awkward very quickly.”  Finished with the washcloth, he folded it carefully and set it aside before raising his eyes to meet Will’s in an almost challenging gaze.   _You know, now what will you do?_  Hannibal desperately needed to know the answer to that question, because he had no idea what he would do if Will tried to turn him in.  A year ago it would have been easy. Will Graham would simply have disappeared, as so many of the unstable do. But now...now things were _complicated._

Will frowned at Hannibal. “Are you intentionally trying to start a fight? Jesus, I’m here, aren’t I? If I was going to turn you in I wouldn’t be here screaming at you to be careful!” He dropped his hands, frustrated at the elegantly bull-headed man that stood, shoulders back and braced for some blow from Will. “ _Awkward_.” he scoffed, looking around the kitchen trying to figure out if he should just turn around and go home tonight. He was too tired for this bull shit.

Hannibal’s back stiffened even further at the derision in Will’s tone, the scoffing remark ruffling feathers already pulled out of place by the unpredictable nature of the situation.  Even with the analytical part of his brain telling him that aggression would not help right now, Hannibal felt his muscles tightening in preparation.

“Why exactly _are_ you here, Will?  If not to arrest me as your morals must insist upon, then what is it you intend?  I sincerely hope it is not with the intention of asking me to stop. It is who I am, _what_ I am.”  Hannibal paused, a cruel smile curling his lips.  “But perhaps you think you can change me, Will? Change me as I have changed you?  Tame me to your hand like a pet, make me as biddable as one of your beloved dogs.” Placing his wine back on the counter, Hannibal circled around the kitchen isle to stand inches from the smaller man, deliberately looming  “Tell me beloved, is that what you had planned when you came here tonight?”

“Are you trying to intimidate me? You realize that as well as knowing you are the Ripper I also know you use ylang-ylang hand cream and spritz your pillow with lavender at night? Yes, you are absolutely terrifying Hannibal, with your baby soft killer hands.” But Will was still confounded by Hannibal’s aggressive stance, by all rights that should be his position. It was unlike the other man to be so _eager_ for confrontation, but if that’s what he wanted…

“I had no other plans than to tell you to stop being so goddamn sloppy. Fucking amateur.” He tilted his chin up and stared down the taller man, Will had seen the worst Hannibal could do and strangely he was not scared of the man at all. “I already did change you, asshole.” To punctuate his statement he pushed firmly against Hannibal’s chest, sending him back against the counter. He could say what he wanted about dogs but Hannibal _had_ changed, he was vulnerable and that’s why he was aggressive. They had managed to lodge themselves quite firmly under the other’s skin, at least Will had the perception to acknowledge it.

Hannibal snarled at the rough handling, the aggression only escalating his own irrational need to lash out at the truth of Will’s words and the knowledge in Will’s eyes that left Hannibal feeling naked and exposed. It was a feeling the doctor found he didn’t care for in the slightest.  “As if someone like you could ever change me. Are you so very sure of me then, Will? So sure that these last few weeks have been something more than a clever killer’s efforts to keep the profiler hunting him blinded?”

Will narrowed his eyes at the older man. He knew the words were uttered in self-defense but it didn’t take the sting out of them. _As if someone like him? These weeks have been nothing?_ Even suggesting it was distasteful. More than distasteful, it was downright rude. Looking to his left, Will dropped a shoulder as if to back down before swinging back around, throwing his fist directly at Hannibal’s perfect face and connecting with regretful accuracy.

Hannibal felt the blow land, felt the pain of it, felt his head snap back from the force and the first trickle of blood as it slid down his face from his now badly split upper lip.  Never taking his gaze off the smaller man still standing in front of him, Hannibal casually reached up, smearing the blood across his chin rather than wiping it away.

“First blood, Will.  Congratulations.” Teeth bared in a shark’s smile, Hannibal lowered his head, shoulders bunching with the flex of powerful muscles.  “My turn.”

And then Hannibal _moved,_ feigning to the right only to dart the other way, coming up behind the smaller man, hands poised to snap that slender neck as he had so many before it.  The movement should have been smooth and fluid, more muscle memory than intent, but Hannibal faltered. His grip was perfect, Will had not yet reacted, it should have been easy.  Eight pounds of pressure applied at the perfect angle and it would all be over. He would be safe, his identity intact and life would continue as it always had. But Hannibal’s hands refused to move, his arms locked as if seized.  He couldn’t do it. Snarling in disgust at his own weakness, Hannibal released his hold and spun the other man around to face him. He had no idea what his intentions were, but Will never gave him the chance regardless.

With the hesitation he was graced with, Will shot an arm up to grasp Hannibal’s throat and bulldoze him as firmly as he could backward until Hannibal’s back hit the wall. He was surprised how easily the older man allowed himself be maneuvered. “So, I guess this would be my turn.” He had intended to do _something,_ he had, but as Hannibal stared back at him, disconcerted but definitely not putting any real effort into shaking Will lose, the want to do any harm was failing him fast. Guilt began to trickle into him from the gash he had made in Hannibal’s lip and the very fact he now felt guilty when Hannibal had constructed this petty fracas didn’t diminish his ire.

His eyes shifted to the doorway that he had shoved Hannibal next to. The dining room. If he couldn't take his rightful aggression out on Hannibal, then he would see if furniture throwing would take the edge off his emotions. This _was_ Hannibal's fault, if they had just fucked already this never would have occurred. Will was sure of that. Hannibal had this coming.

Releasing the older man's throat, he ignored the gasp for breath and strode into the next room, fingers dancing along the surface of a side table.

“Priceless Ming dynasty vase….” He looked over his shoulder at Hannibal, currently massaging his neck and shooting daggers at him. “Would be a shame if something were to happen to it.” his fingertips pushed the finely made antique along the surface, quickly bringing it to the edge.

“William...do not.”  The warning was more of a rumbled growl, Hannibal’s eyes narrowing on the malicious glee curling Will’s mouth into a mocking smile.

“Do not _what_ , Dr. Lecter?” Will's grin was sardonic, he paused for a moment long enough to see relief settle on Hannibal’s face before slamming his hand against the thing so hard it slammed into the wall, smashing into a thousand shards before raining onto the floor. “Ops.”

Hannibal's momentary shock gave Will enough time to pick out his next target: a decorative bowl filled with fresh and exotic fruit on the center of the dining room table.

“That really is a shame, Hannibal. You should store your valuables a little more carefully.” He was by the table now and picked the bowl up with both hands. It was weighty and Will assumed probably cost more than his house. He had exactly zero fucks to give anymore. He would carry on until Hannibal took back his words. Ignoring the uncharacteristically shocked eyes that were locked onto him, he noticed the painting he absolutely detested: Leda and the Swan. He shrugged. “Two birds, one stone,” Will announced to the room before launching the bowl squarely at the masterpiece and watching with fascination as fruit splattered the wall and ceramic shards ripped into the canvas. “I do believe I am more clumsy than usual, Dr. Lecter. _Apologies_.” he snickered.

The sight of his possessions being so maliciously destroyed should have turned Hannibal’s rage into that cold, black thing that allowed him to kill and consume so easily, and had the perpetrator been anyone but Will, it most likely would have.  But instead, a sudden spike of lust and a need to dominate the maddeningly defiant creature smiling at him in challenge flooded Hannibal’s senses, drawing him forward to stalk after Will’s slowly retreating figure.

“Willful, spiteful boy.  I am going to enjoy this _so much….”_  Ceramic and glass and other things crunched under the soles of their shoes as they circled around the table, Will wisely keeping the large piece of furniture between them.  “I do hope you enjoyed the destruction of my dining room as much as I am going to enjoy making you scream and mewl for me, beloved. You will have to tell me if it was worth it in the morning.”

Will swallowed. If this was all it would take to get Hannibal passionate enough to fuck him, he would have trashed the whole house by now. But his own stubbornness surprised Will himself. “You won't touch me until you take it back, Hannibal.” The doctor had stalled at the head of the table, leaning on his palms and his stare sharp enough to cut Will's clothes clean off his body. “I probably have a lot more energy than you do after your shenanigans last night and this morning. So… I can circle this table all night.” There were untouched ornaments that could join the mess on the floor too. Will had been polite too long. “The choice is yours.”

_“Choice?”_  Hannibal rumbled, eyes gleaming with what could be mistaken as mirth in any other situation.  “As if there has ever truly been a choice when it comes to my feelings regarding you.” Taking up the slow, methodical chase once more, Hannibal kept his pace measured, careful to maintain the distance between them.  “As if I had a _choice_ in how you would change me….the way you would draw me in, would catch me in a trap of my own making...the perfect bait.”  Hannibal waited, pacing Will still, until he was directly in front of Hannibal with only the narrowest part of the table between them and thoroughly distracted by the soft cadence of the doctor’s confession.

“There was _never_ a choice for me, Will.  Not since the first moment we met.”  And then he vaulted over the top of the table to crash into Will, turning him bodily to land on his back across the smooth mahogany of the table with a less than gentle force to lay gasping and pinned beneath the weight of the doctor’s body pressing down.

Will tried to wriggle along the table and out from under Hannibal purely on instinct. But for all his protest, the dominant man simply lowered himself further down onto his body. Well, that was what he wanted after all. And those words, they slowly sank into Will's flesh: _since the first moment we met_. Instead of the grunts of effort that had been expelled due to his resistant struggling, a soft moan slipped from Will's mouth as Hannibal pushed firmly to him, their groins now flush. It was more than obvious that he was aroused and Will caught the exact moment Hannibal detected that, the tiniest smirks pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“See, Doctor? It's not so _hard_ to be honest, is it?”

“I do not believe I have ever met a more manipulative individual in my entire life, Agent Graham.  Physical assault, destruction of priceless art, taunting, and now doe-eyed innocence. Is there no limit to your machinations?”  Feeling the younger man squirm once more beneath him, Hannibal ground down, pressing their arousals together and leaving no room for doubt about what was about to happen between them.  “If it is honesty you crave, then it should please you to no end to know that I have no intentions of letting you leave before I take what you have been so desperately offering me for so long.   _Thoroughly.  Ravenously. Completely._ If you are opposed to the idea,” here he paused long enough to thrust roughly against the hips pressing up into his own, “you should say so now.”

Will didn't try to restrain the eager tilt of his hips, after so much longing and frustration he was going to be granted what he wanted. Was it even a question? He needed Hannibal and he needed him _now._

“You talk too much, have I told you that? Just fucking take me already.” The words were panted heavily whilst he looked up at a wolf about to devour and he had never been so turned on in his life. All thoughts of cannibalism and murder seemed to pale in significance to the thought of their naked bodies entwined, right here on the dining table. A live offering.

Hannibal’s pupils blew wide with lust, his arms tightening reflexively at the demand in Will’s voice.  “Beautiful boy, I am going to marry you. Right after I devour you.” Not giving the other man a chance to respond, Hannibal crashed their lips together, taking full advantage of Will’s startled gasp to lick his way past soft lips and sharp teeth to plunder the sweet, wet heat of the younger man’s mouth.  Will shifted beneath him restlessly and Hannibal buried one hand in soft curls to keep that wonderful mouth right where he wanted it while his other squeezed Will’s hip once before sliding down to cup his ass, pulling him closer and encouraging the erratic thrust of those lithe hips against his own. The groan Will fed into his mouth was answered by a rumbled growl, the intense friction of their clothed cocks rubbing together sending the arousal coursing through both men to an almost painful height.

Breaking away from the kiss to drag in ragged breaths, Hannibal pressed open-mouthed licks and nibbles to the slender column that he had held in his hands only a short time ago, worshiping the flesh he had intended to harm.  Working his way up to Will’s ear, Hannibal licked into the delicate shell, relishing the shudder it drew from the man below him before he whispered into the damped flesh. “As much as I wish to take you here and now, beloved, we should move this to the bedroom.  I do not have access to what I need to take care of you properly in my dining room.”

Will tried to focus on what Hannibal was saying but his mind had caught onto something in particular: _marriage?_

“Wait, what?” Hannibal had already pushed away from his body and gripped on to Will’s thighs pulling him along the surface of the table, supposedly so he could be frog marched to the bedroom. The older man looked completely unphased by his own words. They had gone from violence and threats to lust and now marriage? _That wasn’t even a proper proposal._ But Will didn’t currently have the words to voice his chaotic thoughts. He was pretty sure if he could be seduced enough to overlook Hannibal Lecter’s side hobbies, he could be talked into marriage. He grunted a laugh as he thought that the other man could possibly talk him into anything as long as he kept his promise to fuck him out of his mind.

With that thought in mind, Will gripped onto the older man’s wrists stilling him before they moved any further. “Take care of me? What are you going to do?” Excitement and nerves flared inside of him at the thoughts that were being procured at all the things those deadly hands—that would not harm _him_ —would do. Remembering the condiments that were a permanent fixture in the middle of the table, Will turned to lean back and grabbed the tallest glass vial: extra virgin olive oil. He turned back to Hannibal with a grin and thrust it at him, “This should do.” Will didn’t think he had the patience to make it all the way to the bedroom, he’d waited long enough. Hannibal would fuck him right here and now.

Eyebrows raised in surprise at the bottle thrust unceremoniously into his hands, Hannibal could not contain the huff of laughter at the audacity of the situation.  As in every area of their interactions together, Will was proving to be as unpredictable and impulsive in intimacy as well. Never let it be said that Hannibal couldn’t be as spontaneous as his younger lover.  Smiling wickedly, the doctor uncapped the decanter of oil and set in back on the table within easy reach.

“How utterly, perfectly barbaric, Will.  If you would scorn silken sheets and soft pillows in favor of hard mahogany, then, by all means, I will happily spread you across my table, a feast of flesh and lust.”  Giving into the mood of the room completely, Hannibal reached for the front of Will’s shirt with hungry hands. Ignoring the buttons, he grasped the soft material and pulled, ripping it open and sending buttons flying to land amid the shambles of the doctor’s once pristine dining room.  The shocked look on Will’s face caused another laugh to burst from Hannibal’s lips, a happy, joyous sound. “Apologies, Will. Were you particularly fond of that shirt? I myself feel it a mercy to put it out of its misery. That pattern was rather horrid.”

Will was surprised when laughter erupted from him at the aggressive move. His hand gripped Hannibal by the neck before he brought their lips together again, he could play just as rough. Fingers found the pristine line of buttons and—before he could pull away—Will paid back the favor, easily ripping the material apart and feeling the buttons ping from his own chest and scatter on the table top. But he didn’t give the other man a chance to rebuke him, hands snaking back over Hannibal’s broad chest before one returned to the nape of his neck and the other trailed down taut muscle until Will felt the smooth cool of metal. His fingers wasted no time unfastening Hannibal’s belt.

Pulling back from the kiss he looked at the other man, with a smirk. “Didn't I already say you talk too much?” Hannibal’s mouth opened to reply but the motion offered his lower lip; it was too irresistible for Will to resist taking it between his teeth and enjoying the hiss that replaced words that were forming on that dangerously eloquent tongue. The belt was sliding from the loops of Hannibal’s trousers and Will quickly had the thing flung across the room before he returned to yank open button and fly, pushing under the material of the other’s boxers.

Will was surprised that Hannibal’s hands didn’t move to stop him, fingertips pushed into his flesh where he was held around the waist when Will’s palm glided over the smooth skin of Hannibal’s cock, already hard and restricted by his slacks. He knew the groan that emanated from the mouth over his was an echo of the noise that was pushed from his lungs. Finally, he could touch him and it was such an intoxicating relief. With another gasp of pleasure, Will kissed him—thorough and desperate—before he pulled Hannibal free of his clothes and began to stroke his length with languid and teasing glides of his hand.

Hannibal stood motionless under the intoxicating touch of Will’s flesh moving across his own, only the tiny, trembling ticks of muscle locked in place giving away the fact that the doctor was fast coming undone.  Like any other animal, Hannibal was familiar with lust, sex a pleasant and sometimes useful pastime. But this, this _thing,_ that was raging between them, this was so much more.  This was an all-consuming _need,_ a driving force not just of the body but of the mind and soul.  With every touch, every caress, every stroke across his flesh, Will bound them tighter and tighter together, until Hannibal knew he was lost.  He would never belong solely to himself again. From this night forward, he would belong to Will Graham alone. Perhaps he always had.

The realization was somehow freeing.  There was an almost savage joy in belonging to someone else.  It was as surprising as it was exhilarating, and Hannibal welcomed it with open arms.  Released from his frozen state by his internal epiphany, Hannibal’s hands drew up from Will’s waist, cupping that beloved face and bringing it back to his own for a gliding, sucking, sipping kiss that seemed to go on forever before their lip separated.  Moving closer, pressing as close as Will’s spread thighs would allow, Hannibal touched their foreheads together, blooded amber locked onto ocean blue. It wasn’t the first time Will had robbed him of words and probably wouldn’t be the last, but Hannibal found himself struggling to articulate all that he was feeling, to communicate to this perfect, frustrating man how just how far he had burrowed his way into the cold, empty void that had been Hannibal’s soul for so long.

“Will...beloved, you were right to say you’ve changed me.  I have never wanted to share my life with another, to show my true face and nature with anyone.  Until you. You with your terrible manners and horrible taste in clothing, always covered in dog hair and smelling of cheap aftershave, you with your beautiful mind and alluring eyes that see everything… _that see me_ and do not flinch away...  That you can see and accept who I am, what I am…never have I been given such a gift.  Beloved, Will, _As tave myliu._ I love you Will.  Marry me.”

Will froze for a heartbeat. There it was again: marriage. He didn't want to betray himself and show Hannibal just how much the notion of being, not just accepted, _wanted._ Seriously, legally. He'd never considered marriage would happen to him but here he was, his heart skipping a beat when Hannibal said those words. He could play it cool though, there was no need to let Hannibal know just how much he affected him. Although, perhaps it was a little late to worry about how obviously bad Will had it. He'd already shown his acceptance of the other man's _unusual_ pastimes, what was this in comparison?

“If you keep saying that, Hannibal, I'm going to assume you're being serious.” Will finally panted against the other man's mouth. There, that was playing it cool. He resumed the motion up and down Hannibal's length, palming the head and biting his own lip when pre-cum leaked onto his hand. Well, he was obviously having an effect on Hannibal and it was incredibly satisfying.

Growling as Will resumed his assault on his senses and at the breathless, teasing answer that fell from his lips, Hannibal’s hands fisted in Will’s hair, lips taking quick possession of that smirking mouth.  Plundering deep, he could not conceal his own smirk of satisfaction at the needy moan that Will fed him. Trailing heated, possessive kisses along the younger man’s jaw until he reached Will’s ear, he sucked a sensitive earlobe into his mouth before replying.  “Oh, Will I have never been more serious than in this moment, but if you require persuading….”

Hannibal took his mouth again, hands supporting his neck and back as he lowered Will back down to lie across the polished surface of the table.  Lips still feeding hungrily from his mouth, Hannibal made short work of Will’s belt and flies, pushing the material halfway down his thighs before leaving off to reach greedily for the proud erection now laying hard and leaking across the reclining man’s abdomen.  One hand planted flat on the table next to Will’s head supported Hannibal’s weight, letting him hover over his lover’s sprawled form while he slowly began jacking him, breaking the kiss so he could watch as well as feel how beautifully Will fit in his fist. Pleasingly long and thick, Will’s cock was red with need, pulsing within the tight confines of Hannibal’s hand with every pump of his fist until a single drop of pre-cum bubbled from the slit.  Swiping his thumb across the tip, Hannibal brought the digit to his lips, sucking the moisture into his mouth, humming in pleasure as he savored the taste.

“Divine….”  Almost guttural with lust, his voice was barely a whisper.

Overwhelmed by the feel of Hannibal’s hands on him, Will was content to be overpowered. Spread beneath the other, he had been forced to release his hold of Hannibal’s cock, for now at least. Groans left his mouth freely as Will ran his fingers through the older man's hair, losing himself in the sensation of being kissed and touched with a desire that matched his own. Knowing those dangerous hands wanted to do nothing but pleasure him and seeing Hannibal taste a part of him made his head spin, he was losing control. If he wasn't careful his mouth would let on more than he intended.

“I'll say yes on one condition.” Will said, breathing hard and filling his lungs with Hannibal’s scent. “Fuck me until I forget my name.” He had to smirk at the growl that left the mouth currently nipping at his neck. It was either the cuss word striking a chord of disapproval or the sentiment was arousing to Hannibal. Or both. Either way, it did nothing but make Will's cock twitch despite the firm grip that held him.

Eyes narrowing at the filthy demand, Hannibal straightened, gaze locked with Will’s as his hands moved to slide down the pale, soft skin of the other man’s inner thighs, lifting and pushing them wide, opening Will to him fully.  “Demanding, willful boy...that was never in question. If your only condition for acceptance is to be rendered mindless, then I promise you, Will, mindless is _exactly_ what I will reduce you to.”

Without warning, without any indication of his intentions, Hannibal leaned down and took Will’s hard flesh between his lips and swallowed him to the hilt.  Hands still holding the other man spread open and pinned so he was unable to thrust, Hannibal’s head bobbed between them, swallowing and sucking, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowed.  There was no teasing now in the doctor’s touch, just the determined intent to begin the systematic dismantlement Will had demanded of him.

It was becoming obvious to Will that he might have misjudged the situation. He could not tear his eyes away from Hannibal, lips sliding up and down the length of him, devoured by that devastating mouth. Will's breath came out in a rush on a long and desperate moan, it was too much. He wouldn't hold out long at this rate and something told him that Hannibal wouldn't be deterred or wait for Will to recover if he climaxed now. As if the older man could read his thoughts, the flat of Hannibal’s tongue pushed firmly against his shaft and was dragged up until it circled the head. Head dropping back to the table, Will let out a pathetic whimper. Control was slipping and fast, the hands that held him fast did nothing but turn him on even more.

“ _Fuck._ Hannibal, you have to-” Will began, only to be interrupted by a precise adjustment of the mouth that was on him, sending vibrations of ecstasy throughout Will's body, “I won't last, Hannibal. Please…” He was cut off again by a gasp as he felt the back of Hannibal’s throat tight around the end of his cock. He was going to come and embarrassingly soon at this rate.

Even without Will’s desperate, half-formed pleading, Hannibal would have to know the younger man was on the edge.  The cock filling his mouth was pulsing wildly against his swirling tongue and the sweet, salty flavor of Will’s pre-come flowed continuously across his taste buds and Hannibal knew it wouldn’t be more than a few seconds before Will was spilling down his throat.  He could stop now, deny Will his release, leave him sobbing and whining with want. Or he could push Will over the edge and then further, have him sobbing for an entirely different reason. Smirking as much as the cock trapped between his lips would allow, Hannibal deliberately took him as deep into his throat as he could and swallowed repeatedly.  After all, Will _had_ requested to be completely undone, had he not?  

While Will keened above, Hannibal reached out, snagging the open bottle of oil and quickly dipped a long finger inside, coating it well before bringing it to the puckered entrance to Will’s body.  Swirling the tip around the tightly furled pucker, Hannibal slipped just the tip inside. It was enough, the slight burn pushing Will over the edge he was hovering on and drawing a long, drawn-out moan from him as he flooded Hannibal’s mouth with his seed.

Fingers tightened their grip in Hannibal’s hair as Will's whole body tensed before his strength and control collapsed hopelessly. Air was punched from his lungs at the same intensity as he came, Will was no longer aware of anything other than the warmth that continued to devour him and the skilled fingers that teased at him. He couldn't remember a climax ever being that quick and intense. Hannibal worked with a precision to inflict as much pleasure on Will's body as was possible. Once his body relaxed with the last of his air and orgasm, Will reached that barrier of oversensitivity. He _knew_ Hannibal wouldn't give him mercy.

Fingers pushed firmer against him as Hannibal’s mouth left his cock, wet and spent. “Can't we just-” Will began, hoping he could ask for a reprieve, just a minute would be enough. He really should have been more careful about what he asked for. But his words died in his throat as Hannibal pushed a finger inside him. Too weak to do anything else, Will gasped for breath at the sensation. He arched his back but Hannibal’s free hand held him firm as he began to thrust that one finger slowly into him, dragged and twisted with expertise.

“Until you could not remember your own name, Will.  I believe those were your words, were they not?” Hannibal’s voice all but purred the words, tone laced with sensual sadism as he continued to work a single, slender finder in and out of Will’s twitching pucker.  “You are still far too coherent, precious boy, for me to consider that task sufficiently accomplished, so my end of the bargain has not yet been satisfied... What’s to be done about that?” A whining whimper was Will’s only reply.

Ignoring the unspoken plea for mercy, Hannibal poured more of the oil over his fingers, pressing a second to Will’s fluttering rim and working it past the tight ring of muscle with slow, relentless pressure.  Shushing the panting whimpers escaping from between the lips Will was biting desperately on with mock sympathy, Hannibal ran a soothing hand up Will’s heaving side and across his chest to pluck and tease at a pebbled nipple, smiling at the gasp it elicited.  “Is it good, darling?” He cooed. “The feel of me inside of you? Stretching you, creating space inside you, preparing your lovely body for my possession? You feel absolutely divine, like silk and heat wrapped so tightly around me. I cannot wait to slide inside of you, to feel your perfection taking me deep inside of your body, holding me beautifully as you writhe on my cock, reduced to nothing more than mindless need.”

Will was tempted to beg, he was almost at that point. Except begging wasn’t something that he did easily, if at all. After the last few weeks—no _months_ —of teasing and failed attempts, he wasn’t going to take any less than Hannibal could give him. It wouldn’t be over quickly, and he would make the most desperate noises in his life but he wasn’t going to tell the other man to stop, even if Jack was banging on the front door with a SWAT team, somehow managing to figure all this out. Despite the oversensitivity and stimulation forced on him, he wanted this.

The fingers inside him were relentless, exploring deep and pushing groans from him that only grew more desperate the longer it went on. Will intended to say something encouraging, to say that he wanted this, wanted Hannibal and only Hannibal. But when he opened his mouth something else slipped out.

“Do your worst.” The words rushed out of Will and he would have laughed in a nervous panic had he not been incapacitated by a third finger that was pushed roughly inside him. But he couldn’t look away from Hannibal’s eyes — almost black. The smirk on the dominant man’s lips made it quite clear that he would make full use of Will’s offer.

Watching from beneath a gaze hooded and made heavy with lust, Hannibal gave no sign at first that he had even heard Will’s taunt, continuing to work the smaller man open with infinite patience, his movements controlled and almost careful as his fingers pushed forward and withdrew over and over.  And all the while, the doctor let the fire sparked by the foolish, daring words uttered by his mate grow and twist inside of him to twine with the darkness that was always there, coiled and waiting to slip the tight leash of his control. Always before, Hannibal had fed his monster with flesh and blood.  Tonight he would feed it a far more satisfying feast.

Withdrawing his hand from Will’s body with a last, gentle caress, Hannibal slid the muscular thighs bracketing his hips up to rest lightly upon his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to one of Will’s knees before leaning in and folding Will, now pinned by the weight of Hannibal’s body, almost double.  Close enough now to share a kiss if that had been his intent, Hannibal locked his gaze with Will’s, smiling wickedly as he murmured against his lover’s lips. “Brave boy, I do admire your courage. I’ll have your heart yet.” Hitching the bent body quivering beneath his own just a bit higher, hands tightening to a fierce and biting grip to hold the other man still and where he wanted him, Hannibal notched the head of his cock against Will’s opening.  Powerful muscles bunched and coiled tight, a predatory ready to spring. Hannibal let his smile grow teeth. “But first, dear Will….scream for me.”

Hips snapping forward, Hannibal revelled in the sounds he drew from Will’s throat as he shoved his way deep inside his lover’s body, bottoming out on the first thrust only to pull back and drive deep again, hissing at the tight, wet heat that swallowed him eagerly.  Will convulsed beneath him, back arched as his nails bit into Hannibal’s shoulders, scrabbling for purchase against the sweat-slicked skin.

Will remembered to breathe, the initial shock of Hannibal’s movement ebbing away as he was fucked into without mercy. He had asked for this and, as of yet, he wasn’t regretting it. Will craved the fell of Hannibal’s passion for him, unleashed and unforgiving. This was who Hannibal was.

Air flooded his lungs and only stilled momentarily before rushing out on a loud cry. He may have even called out Hannibal’s name but Will wasn’t focussed on the noises that came from him and reverberated around the room. With every gasp of air, his body relaxed into the rapid pace that Hannibal kept, the only thing he could focus on was the indelicate noise that was created when the other man’s body met his own. That slap of flesh on flesh was nothing other than filthy and an electrifying turn on.

Will’s left hand left flesh to rake through Hannibal’s hair, taking a firm grip at the roots whilst he tilted his hips, angling his body to accommodate as much of the other man’s cock as he could. “Fuck, that feels good Han-” his words faltered as their bodies met again. “But..” glancing at the clock, Will couldn't help the smirk that played on his lips, even as his demeanor and words were constantly shattered by each deliberate thrust. “It’s 9.30- I’m Will Graham,” he managed, grunting out a laugh mingled with a groan, “and I’m being fucked on your table. I’m not out of my mind yet.”

Hannibal’s pupils dilated impossibly wide, eclipsing all traces of color from his gaze seconds before he jerked Will upright so he sat on the very edge of the table, Hannibal’s hands gripping him by hip and hair.  Never slowing the pounding pace of his hips as he battered the smaller man’s body, Hannibal’s grip on those soft curls turned cruel, cranking Will’s head back sharply to bare his neck to the doctor’s teeth and tongue.  Leaving a trail of bites and bruises in its wake, Hannibal’s mouth traveled slowly from collarbone to ear, his voice deceptively kind in comparison to the battering rhythm he was taking Will with.

“You will remember tomorrow, won’t you beloved, that you asked for this?”  Pulling harshly from Will’s body without warning, Hannibal yanked him from the table and spun him in place, forcing the younger man to bend, pressing his chest flat to the smooth surface warmed by his body, leaving him without leverage and completely at Hannibal’s mercy.  Strong hands gripped to hold him steady, and Hannibal slammed deep, shoving and forcing his way back inside.

Will could do nothing else but watch his breath mist on the smooth table surface, panting short and ragged noises as hands gripped his hips in a vice. This felt more exposed, more vulnerable and Hannibal was taking full advantage. He’d thought that he was taking as much as he could, but in this position, Hannibal was even deeper inside of him. The way the other man’s body possessed him, forcing him to give way to his need was strangely exhilarating. Will was at complete mercy to Hannibal and he’d never been so aroused in his life.

Fingers curled in a fruitless attempt to gain purchase on the table. Will tried to push himself up on instinct to gain a modicum of control, but Hannibal only fucked him harder, forcing the strength from him. Will surrendered, laid out obediently for Hannibal to claim. Eyes drifted closed and his head began to swim, vision blurring to white and the only thing that he could still do was mewl pathetically.

Hannibal felt the moment Will surrendered, his body no longer fighting for control, giving over instead to everything Hannibal gave him.  The monster inside of him roared in triumph as it claimed its mate, eager to paint Will with the marks of his possession both inside and out.  To that goal, Hannibal adjusted his grip on the lithe hips clutched in his hands, tipping them up so that his next thrust hit Will’s prostate dead on, drawing a deep moan from the pinned man’s throat.  Never letting up his pace, Hannibal blanketed Will’s back with his body, nuzzling the curls at the nape of his neck aside to fit his mouth there where the skin was tender and soft.

Orgasm was only moments away, poised and ready to crash over them both, bodies moving in sync now, both intent on their shared goal.  Pressed tight against his lover’s body, Hannibal’s voice was a barely more than a growl. “Come for me, beloved.” And then he bit deep, drinking down Will’s cries along with the sweet, coppery blood filling his mouth, both dragging him into release with a roar.

Will was past the point of being able to communicate, he could barely comprehend what was being said to him. Regardless of his state, he had been stimulated to the very brink of ecstasy and despair, swirling together like an irresistible cyclone. The words were enough to see him undone but the teeth at his flesh ripped Will’s orgasm from his body. Skin set with sweat and hips faltering Will let out one last pained cry as Hannibal fucked him through their release, the surface beneath his stomach now slick with his cum.

Hannibal’s grip didn’t relent, teeth or hands, but his thrusts stuttered just as Will’s body went completely limp. Words were murmured into his neck, the skin tenderly kissed and licked where he had just been marked. Will wasn't sure how long they both laid there, in the quiet and half-destroyed room but slowly his thoughts began to collect themselves just as the feeling came back to his legs. He was still sure he couldn’t form any coherent words but he needed to get just one out.

“Yes.” it was a weak croak, but he had said it. He just hoped Hannibal wouldn't be literal enough to ask him what he was agreeing to.

Pressing a lingering kiss to the bite mark still bleeding sluggishly, Hannibal huffed out a laugh.  “Finally. Forgive me for saying so, but you, Will Graham, are a very stubborn man.” Slipping from Will’s body, Hannibal pulled him up and turned him, cradling the smaller man in his arms like the precious gift he was.  Touching their foreheads together, Hannibal smiled softly. “But for all of that, you have made me a very happy man. I will endeavor to spend the rest of mine thanking you for it.”

Will let himself be moved, with so much care and in complete contrast to the way he had been handled minutes before. Relaxing into Hannibal’s strength, Will caught his breath, absorbing the strength and words that were given to him. It was still a bizarre thought that he could make anyone happy, let alone Hannibal Lecter. And what was most mystifying was that Will had never been happier, despite the conflict.

“It’s been a long day, what with cleaning up after you and,” Will gestured weakly at the room, “This. so,” he looked up into the other man’s amber eyes and grinned, “You could start with making me dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE LOVE YOU ALL <3
> 
> As always, comments greatly appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> As always; comments, criticism and suggestions welcomed.


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